Gabe was really, really not one to stand on ceremony. "Hey," he said, taking the bottle, admiring the good-quality glass and the intricate fastenings around the stopper, "it's all goo--"
And then he turned the bottle around, realised what it was, and nearly dropped it. Only nearly, though, because as soon as he fumbled it he was cradling it carefully, attention fully on it. Within the slightly-cloudy liquid, the movement jostled the coiled snake, and holy shit.
"Holy shit," Gabe breathed, holding the bottle up (caaaaaarefully now) to peer into the glassy eye of the contained cobra. "That's a... Is this...?" He flipped over the label strung around the neck, reading the water-stained text. "I've heard about this shit, man, but never even seen a bottle of it." His grin now was definitely a proper grin, as he added, "We are totally getting into this right now. Come on."
To the batcave! (Well, the dungeon. Quite a few owls, but no bats.)