Reaching back for the bottle, Harry grabbed it and looked at it, arching an eyebrow. "Hello again," he told it in an earnest voice. It was incredible: he was holding the bottle, but he really had no feeling in either arm. Forget Skel E Go: this whiskey was a cure all!
Harry took a swig and nodded. "Yep I tol'er las' night and she said she'd be right wid it since ye know Gin she'd have a bloody cow if I dinnit run sumtin by her," he said with an exaggerated sigh, all of the words beginning to mush together as the alcohol truly kicked into Harry's bloodstream.
"You'll be bes' mate!" he crowed. He took a swig of the whiskey and held it in the air with his good hand. "Here's ta th'weddin'! And ye'd be in charge of a lad's night." He looked at the whiskey and told it lovingly, "You can come too. You're a mate now, yeah!"
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