He watched as she downed the pink, and shook his head as he reached for the bottle of gold. He poured himself a couple fingers and looked back at Alice. "Sweetheart, I've been in sewers that I don't think could handle the other stuff.<em>I'm</em>sure as hell not gonna try it." He lifted his glass in a lazy toast and tipped it back, letting the sharp, bitter whiskey wash over his tongue. He shuddered and slammed the glass down on the bar, a puff of smoke rolling out of his lips. His tongue darted out and he licked his lips, and sucked in a deep breath. He picked up the bottle and studied the label intently; he'd been in bars, taverns, dives and hole-in-the-walls all over the planet, and he'd never heard of this stuff. It was, he decided, a personal failure he'd never forgive himself for. Luke poured another glass and sipped it slower this time, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. He looked over at Alice and held up the bottle. "What, exactly, would I have to do, in order to get you to tell me where you got this stuff?"