Miles was a little past tipsy, but not by much. The Walrider had upped his immunity, it seemed. He didn't care; he was having fun.

He scoffed. "An egg. Come on, it's not like I never read Tolkien." Then he finished off his seventh drink. Oop - yes, he was feeling it. Nowhere near blackout (thank God) but definitely feeling it. "What do you take me for, some kind of uncultured swine?" He paused. "Okay. You'd be justified, knowing me."