Mixology 101 [ 952 words ]

“Don’t dip your ear into that, silly!” Hops laughed as Zian’s humiliating, unsuccessful attempt at mixing a drink went from bad to worse. Or, well, in their eyes it went from bad to worse. The entire concoction was so off-kilter that they couldn’t actually tell whether they made a senseless mush or something else entirely. Comparing their drink to what they’d seen Hops serve countless times now, they were definitely feeling down about their ability to make anything substantial.

“I won’t, okay?” Zian reassured Hops, even though their ear was dangerously close to the rim of the glass. They’d sort of regretted not doing this as a doll, but they’d also been very vocal about doing anything that way being half of the fun. “Will it stain my fur if I do?”

They weren’t considering it! And yet, still, as though reading their mind, Hops sent them a looked that said - I’m a little disappointed. Should I be surprised? And Zian didn’t deem the look worthy of a reponse, mostly because they knew she’d be right to tell them off.

“You’ve been adding things in there behind my back,” Hops said instead.

“No, I haven’t,” Zian said quickly and deceptively, like a bad liar, and well — if Hops had had a hunch before, now she must’ve known for certain that they were, truly, adding things to their drink behind her back. “Hops! I haven’t!”

“Why aren’t you getting Hopscotch then?” And well, Zian had to admit that Hops knew to ask the right damn questions! They didn’t know why they weren’t getting the damned Hopscotch! They’d only changed a few things!

“Listen, Hops…” They tried, but words failed them. They couldn’t really dance around it because they didn’t know what they were talking about at all, so they supposed that maybe it was the best to start with the truth and work their way up from there. “I used the glass you told me to use.”

They made a pause, just to see if Hops would react, but the look she gave them was still rather unimpressed.

“And I added whiskey, too!” There, that was two things already.

“Okay,” Hops said, regarding their drink with some curiosity. It didn’t look too bad, all things considered. It was a little more vibrant than it was supposed to be, maybe, but maybe that was just the lighting and the angle and, you know, maybe the glass was tinted or something like that. Hopscotch was supposed to stain, and Zian had half the mind to dip the finger in just to check if it would. “Where’s your drink pick then?”

“Well,” Zian started, then looked around, just in case. They even got up, just to make sure that the drink pick hadn’t hidden somewhere from their sight. “I couldn’t find it, so I thought, you know, I’ll be fine without it.”

“Okay,” Hops said again, and Zian already didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s supposed to be soft peach. Why is it orange?”

And well, now was the time for Zian to decide what to do. They could swallow their pride and tell Hops that yes, they messed it up big time but they had no idea what they were doing, or they could feign ignorance and claim they followed everything to the word.

“Well the colour was a little off,” they said finally after an awkward pause. “Like it was layered, you know? The top was transparent. So I added some cinnamon just to tint it.”

“Just to tint it?!” They thought Hops might be disappointed or mad — they did rummage through their ingredients to find something suitable — but she was laughing instead. They laughed so hard they turned on the side, their little grayish-pink body was nearly rolling. Zian couldn’t resist a pout. “Oh, Zian. That’s why you need a drink pick! Did you add anything else?”

“No,” they said instead. “Whiskey and cinnamon into the right glass,” they confirmed.

Hops nodded, then started rummaging around for a bit. She muttered something; Zian couldn’t really hear her as she was sifting through the ingredients out of their view, but they could tell she wanted them to stay where they were. She hadn’t said anything about that, but they were also pretty certain they weren’t supposed to touch anything else.

In a little while, Hops returned with a little pouch.

“Alright,” she told them. “Take a step back. This won’t stain but you should still take care of your ears, you know?”

Cautious, and not wanting to know what she meant by that at all, Zian took a step back. Hops loosened the string on the pouch, pinched something that looked like powder — but they couldn’t be sure — between her fingers and then just sprayed it all over Zian’s drink.

The drink went up in flames.

“Holy fu—” Zian swore as they jumped a little ways off, their heart hammering in their chest. “What the hell was that?! Did I make— Did I make an explosive?”

“No, silly!” Hops laughed from her place next to the flaming orange liquor glass, completely unbothered by the fire. “You accidentally made Sinnamon Whiskey. You messed up for your firsy time, but in the end it’s pretty neat, isn’t it?”

“Pretty neat,” Zian confirmed. “I do think I’ve hard enough drink mixing for a while. Don’t you?”

Hops laughed, then removed the glass on fire from their view. They weren’t satisfied with the attempt. In fact, they may never try again. And still, they thought as Hops poured them another drink — pale and not on fire, thank you very much — the endevour seemed to be a little worth it.