It's pathetic how much his face lights up at the offer. Like a kid on Christmas -- it's not quite a new-puppy smile, but it's definitely a new-football level grin.

"Not gonna lie, that kinda makes me feel better. And yeah." He straightens up in his chair, casting Asshole a sideways glance. "I'd love a drink. What 'bout him, he doesn't...?" But he already knows the answer to that question. His smile fades. "He doesn't drink, does he."