He was normal, just normal ol' Cormac McLaggen and if he could have been arsed to care he would have been concerned with the spell fuck-up that seemed to be ravaging the country. Actually, that wasn't true, he did care; he thought it was bloody hilarious. The fact of the matter was people he'd known for years were walking around with the wrong parts and it was causing great concern; had he been part of that population he too would have been in a panic, but as he wasn't--it was a joyous amusement that he gladly would crash a party to see. Who knew how long it would last, if it meant everything would be righted by the next morning he did not have long to benefit from the confusion.
It was also a chance to actually enjoy a drink or two without having to worry about putting on his 'salesman' air. It was a private party of a very hot blonde, he didn't have to worry about product and the perfect smile, it was a chance to let loose and have a shot without shooting it back out in a hidden beer. Still habits were habits and he still ended up bringing a bottle of ol' Ogdens just in case.