Rhydian punched him in the arm. One 'pansy' a night was enough; he had to try to set limits somewhere. "It's mostly birds, you know. Even if they are mostly form the over-sixty-fives. You might learn something, you never know."
He managed to slam the cap shut on his flask before shoving a hand up into his hair (ineffectually, given the mitten) and watched Lennox dive. This was one game he didn't want to have to congratulate him for, never mind that Fergus winning anything guaranteed that he'd spend the rest of his night on the defensive.
At least he'd drink free, though. He never bought after a loss.