Good. [He doesn't know why he says "good" - at this point, the chef swears his mouth has a life of its own, and the rest of him is just along for the ride. He also starts to lean some of his weight back against Richard, the alcohol slowly winding him down. Either he drink more to refuel his insanity or he consider that "go to bed" option he's heard is all the rage this time of night]
[action, August 12th]
Hey, you th'nk you c'n walk?