Cal looked apprehensively from the one glass in his hand to the other, eventually setting the screaming orgasm down on a nearby table. He considered inquiring as to what, exactly, was the freaky looking blue stuff in the glass, but decided against it. With a name like trash can, he probably didn't want to know.

Why did cocktails all have such weird names? He took a sip, glancing furtively at Sergius over the rim of the glass. And why did they all taste awful? Wasn't the point of a mixed drink to actually make alcohol less gross?

"This is disgusting. It tastes like she just dumped half the bar into it with looking." He took another, larger sip. It burned on the way down. "What's the blue stuff? Glass cleaner? You didn't order this for yourself, right?"