Oh, isn’t he adorable. Saxsice laughs a little at the glass thrust into her face, sniffing once to identify that – yep, that’s just regular old juice, nothing fancy. But she’s still smiling as she gently reaches up to steer the guy’s hand away, nodding earnestly so he doesn’t feel too put out. “Mmmm-hm, yep, that’s the good shit, punkin, you ain’t wrong. Wait’ll you let it sit in the barrel for a few months, get nice n’ fermented, you’ll go outta your head over it.”

Then, frowning, she plucks the glass from his hand. “Well, not you you. Don’t go makin’ bathtub moonshine when they got perfectly good Everclear in the fridge. Ever have an apple pie shot, sweetie?”

The mention of chocolate makes her wince a little, sipping at the juice, then shaking her head – needs liquor, stat. “Sorry, punkin, I’m allergic. You better tell me all about it, though, ya hear? C’mon, I want a shot myself, let’s go raid the fridge while you wax poetic n’ shit.”