“Booze,” she said with emphasis. “Lots and lots of booze.”
As she grabbed her brother's arm to drag him towards the bar, she added in a mutter, “And absolutely no bunnies.”
Because she knew it couldn't be him, it wasn't possible. But the mask still reminded her of him, and it was killing her. She was going to go get a bottle of tequila, and then she was going to go punch that rabbit right in the face.