Drax and Hope
"I do not see a spike in your drink." Drax was staring right at it. No spikes in sight. "I do not know what rum is. If it is what they make spikes out of, then it missed your beverage."
He thought about it for a long moment, unsure of what a cheerleader squad was. It sounded deadly. He nodded at the thought, and then latched on to what it was likened to.
"So you will be holding me up, as I eat hot dogs," he mused aloud. "I agree. I might need to vomit."