"COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!"
The Mule coughed violently, his hand trembling as he set the cup, still partially filled with liquid, on the table.
In the eyes of the other players, his face flushed red, and steam rose from his head as if he had just been plucked from a sauna.
"Drink slower, Mr. Kevin," the Bee said with a faint smile. "This bottle of 'Pale Torture' is as scorching and stimulating as lava steeped in chili to a first-timer."
"Pale Torture?"
The Mule's face was crimson. He blinked, wiping away tears and snot, and pretended not to have heard his companions' explanations. "What is that?" he asked the Bee.
