'They sure got drunk quick,' plate in hand, towel straddled the shoulders, sweat on the forehead; the entertainment area turned to a maze of unknown proportions. Between the stutters, slowed speech, and overall uncharacteristic behaviors of the guests, Éclair had his work cut out. Maids and butlers were called from the Shadow Realm, those of which being trained in the ways of fighting and catering.
"I can't believe you drank so much," *hic,* "-holy hell Jula, you're an entonnoir for sure."
"Don't dare label me a funnel," her would-be stern gaze slapped across his visage, a gasp escaped, the frown swapped for a conniving smirk, "-I can drink, just not what you have to serve," her sight lowered below his belt, "-I wonder what you're hiding."
"No, not right now," intervened Asmodeus," -my harem will be here soon," he gawked the clock impatiently, the minute hand-laid short of midnight.
