"I can definitely help with that," George said, holding out his hands to take the frothy, unidentifiable beverage from Tom. He lifted the glass for a sip. A confident sip of one who knows exactly what's in his glass, not the pansy sip of someone who has no idea what he's been handed, what sort of industrial cleaners might be inside, or what awful things it might do to him should he have more than one glass.
Caution be damned. He took a drink and had to bite down on his tongue to keep from coughing and spitting the vile concoction back out again. Blugh. But hey! There was definitely alcohol in there. Maybe a bit longer and he wouldn't notice the taste anymore.
"I am!" He replied, setting the glass down. Fake confidence or not, he was going to take this one slowly. "Math is awful and I wish we didn't need it, but Fred insists it's important to keep close track of all the money."