[A man walks into the Mess wearing blah, blah, blah. His usual china cup of raspberry tea is replaced this evening by a bottle of Breckenridge Brewery Avalanche Ale. He draws from it as he looks for the guy with the silly grin and Mid-Atlantic accent.]
Ah! There you are. Something's wrong with Mom's e-mail. If you've sent her anything in the past few days, she didn't get it. Please call ASAP so that we can lay in the appropriate amount of provisions for your visit.
[He hands the now empty bottle to Toasted and leaves.]