Flitz had run out of his allotment of smartass forgiveness, and Nameless grabbed his muzzle, and squeezed it once. That was his signal that Flitz had exhausted Nameless' patience. They spent an hour or two swapping stories and enjoying the drinks, and after Flitz had proven he could hold his tongue, both physical and mental ones, then Nameless would let Flitz get some small sips.