Gary puts on a face like he is very disappointed to hear this and mumbles something about how he prefers tights before he decides to drop it. He's pushed his luck, now he's smart enough to back off, even if Oceana still seems to be in a joking mood.

"Whatever they're passing around, I guess," he shrugs. Gary takes a moment from dancing to wave over a passing Avox and grab one of the ubiquitous glasses of vodka, which he gives a testing sniff. His face scrunches accordingly. "Rubbing alcohol?"