Artist: Smashing Pumpkins
The glass was set down in front of Kimblee with a thunk. It was small and clear and filled with something red. Glancing at the giver of the glass, he was also assured that it was highly alcoholic.
"A toast to freedom." Greed purred, sliding into the seat next to the Crimson Alchemist. In one taloned hand, the homunculus clutched a large wooden mug that smelled faintly of rotting apples. "Drink up."
Kimblee picked up the glass with a little reluctance. But Greed was watching him with that grin, like he expected Kimblee to pussy out. "To freedom," the Alchemist said, then poured the drink down his throat. It was surprisingly sweet.
Greed was still chugging from his mug when Kimblee put down his glass. The warmth of the drink settled in his belly and spread to his limbs. It was very pleasant.
Not as good as blowing something up, but pleasant.
"What the hell are you sucking down?" Kimblee asked Greed as he finally set down the mug.
"Scrumble." The Sin said with a satisfied sigh. "Haven't had any in ages."
"What," Kimblee asked, watching with morbid fascination as a few drops of the drink that had flown free were dissolving a nearby spoon, "is in Scrumble?"
"Apples." Greed said happily. "Mostly."