If Sam is looking for people who have had a little something to drink, he ought to look no further than Thor. Really, a little doesn't quite cut it here. He's still getting used to being mortal, alcohol is a powerful mistress when he doesn't have his resilience. He's chugged more than a few of those cups, but he came into this party looking like a half-dressed, drunk slob.

He sees Sam and begins approaching him purely because he's seen Steve and others treat him favorably. He had half a mind to stand by him and talk, but he winds up thudding down into a chair that protests the sudden heave of godly weight.

"We ought to be friends." He says suddenly, his thin filter pretty much evaporated thanks to the drinks. He considers it for a moment before piping up. "I know Steve." He adds. "And. The others." There's a lot of them. "Thor." He finishes with his trademark smile.