"No," Pete said, draining the last of his drink and sliding it onto the table so William could refresh it. "No, that's not Ryland. Too short, a bit, and the walk's all wrong."
He tilted his head and squinted, but it was hard to tell exactly who it was, what with all the feathers and rotundness. "Anyway, I scaled Ryland's costume back from serveral articles of clothing to a loincloth."
He had done no such thing. And he had also not left Ryland passed out on the floor, but Pete had a somewhat casual relationship with the truth when the truth was nonessential. "What's Gabe?" he asked, looking around for any flash of neon and sniffing the air lightly for Gabe's peculiar muggle cocktail preference.