[He raised an eyebrow as 21 vocalized his disjointed thoughts for a second or two. Scotty couldn't be arsed to make any sort of deal of it, though. He wandered over to the bar and patted a barstool, indicating a spot for 21. He moved behind the bar and began to fiddle underneath it. His voice was muffled.]

What d'yeh drink, then? I think I'm still sober enough to get yeh somethin'...