"Not at all. I am just taking a moment to enjoy the tipsy I already feel," he chuckled. Nothing was wrong with his drink at all, he thought and grabbed the handle of the tankard.

With a large grin, he downed a large gulp. "Alright, just wanted to make sure. I hope to be just above stupid drunk by the end "

"I agree," said Marcus before taking a healthy swig of the ale. "Ahh, that's the stuff," he muttered and swiveled about on his stool, propping his elbows on the bar counter.

Menachem calmed from his laughing earlier. He leaned on the bar as he drank slower, his eyes closed for a moment to enjoy the peace.

He yawned and realized that the ale was making him not only stupid but sleepy. "Ahh, sheeit," he said upon that yawn.

Immediately, his eyes opened and he turned towards him. Seeing nothing wrong, he tilted his head. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. I think the ale did its job." He giggled a little at that.

He smirked and nodded. "Oh I can see that quite clearly. Don't get lost and end up in someone else's room when you retire tonight."

"I think I remember which room is mine," he giggled some more. Oh, how funny the ale was making him seem to himself. He had the case of the laughs it seemed.

He laughed in reply and shook his head. "Don't pick the wrong one. You don't want a punch to the face because you bothered some random guy, right?" Menachem chuckled slightly. "Maybe I should treat you like a damsel in distress and escort you to your room to make sure you're safe.'