Face to Face with the Trench Coat

You told me Mister X wears a trench coat and a fedora, so I kept my eyes peeled until I spotted him lurking on the living room table. It was a dark, brooding figurine wrapped in heavy sculpted plastic folds with the wide brim of a dark hat pulled low. He didn't say a word, just stared out with cold intensity. I dropped into a balanced stance, stepped right into his range, and planted a firm palm strike directly into the center of his stiff overcoat. The heavy base wobbled, rocking back on its heels before settling with a sharp clack. Ha, this guy's got serious poise! Now that we've traded greetings, tomorrow's bout is going to be intense.