[The smell, it was... familiar. When he accepted the drink, he gave it a scrutinizing one-eyed peep.]

What's this, a potion? ...Good. We can make the final push to catch the creepy bastard.

[So he'd simply pound it, expecting a bitter yet immediate punch to his system. But when it was instead a smooth, piping bitterness that evened out into a malty sweetness, he choked a bit and lowered the cup.]

Wh-what the hell is this!? This ain't a potion! I thought we weren't supposed to bullshit each other! It...

...It...

[He released the hammer to balance the cup in both hands, and drank again.]

It's... barley...?