[ If France wasn't keeping Scotland's scotch from hitting the ground he'd probably enjoy warming his hands (and cooking his eggs) on the angry flush. He chortles, loudly, when their scotch baby is snatched from his hands. With nothing else to do with them he rests them on his hips, shooting the redhead a teasing smile. ]

Oh yes, of course. This went according to plan?

[ If he'd had a moment to wonder if this was genuinely his friend it withers when the redhead goes on about how he's going to leave and get absolutely hammered in the peace of his abode. He's not so amused that he doesn't tut at the man in front of him. ]

Are you really going to subject your roommate to that kind of evening?