" Well, that's a great pile of biblically inappropriate donkey dicks. " A quick blink, and he corrects, with profound dryness, " Oh, my bad. Was I being blasphemous again? Terribly sorry. "
Still: he sighs, and carefully pours a glass of wine; the stem is held between fingers, almost delicately. He handles it with a bizarre delicate familiarity. " Alcohol is man's most glorious invention. Civilizations depended on it, you know. Formed around it. Bloody fascinating. So —— " And he tips a finger up, the smile narrowing, " Don't give the old man credit. No, no, this was all you. The —— " and he waves his hand, vaguely, " universal you, of course. " He punches out a heave of a sigh, takes a swallow. " No, no, the apology for making everyone self-aware is that sex feels nice. "