Re: Millicent and the Dingle
Millicent didn't drink beer. Well, she did. On special occasions. Most of them included stumbling home long after the sun was up, arm in arm with her cousin Carlotta. They had bought beer from dubious looking men pulling their wares from sewer holes when they thought nobody was watching, pairing them with samosas and such. That was the only time beer was a good idea.
Still, she was not one to back out of a challenge - any challenge - and hey, it was on fire. Not as good as firewhisky, surely, but she had to give it a shot.
She blew the flame out, held the glass up and chugged it. "Holy fuck that's disgusting," she said as she put the empty glass down, coughing only a little. "And awesome. But mostly disgusting. And I have no idea what to drink after that."
She wiped her mouth, taking a deep breath. The inside of her mouth was burning. Hopefully not literally.
"Gotta keep tabs on your almost-relatives, dear," she said. "Came home last week. Been in Spain for five years. And I have to say - England's barely recognisable. Too much of everything now, yeah?"