"Ha! Fuсking monks... they're just as bad as clerics and preachers." [i]The sci-fi super Sue slowly shook his head with a mechanical chuckle, his right hand moving over to the fashionable cloth satchel on his left hip, the cord of which hung around his neck, going across his chest and back both. He slipped his hand into it, reaching around for a few moments, before he slowly pulled his hand back out... Following within his grasp was a clear bottle of glass, filled with an equally as clear liquid, the Russian label noting it as vodka or whatever -- at least, that was one of the words imprinted on it, the others undecipherable unless Marcus just so happened to speak Russian. Jason quickly slipped his left hand into the bag, grabbing two small shot glasses from it.[/i] "Hope ya don't mind vodka... Got some rum in there, too, if you'd prefer."