"Well now, if you don't look like a pretty princess," Mort said with a smirk as he came in. He pulled off his backpack and tossed it on the nearest flat surface before shrugging out of his trenchcoat and pulling off his watchcap. "Let me guess," he said, glancing at the bottle of booze near by, "found out what a crappy idea drowning your sorrows is?"
He opened up his backpack and pulled out a half-crushed cardboard box with a still mostly recognizable image of a cup of some kind of beverage with a spoon over the top of it on it. "I was looking for coffee, but found this Mexican stuff instead. Not really sure why I lugged it home, but looks like it came in handy. You got something to heat some water up? Probably sucks compared to milk, but I don't exactly have a cow in my back pocket, do you?"