Damn. This is hard to open.
The bottle is covered in greasy soot like everything else and its slipping in my hands. Damn. There. Oh. The taste fills my mouth and for a second i can't feel the stench, just the sting of the... cognac? Hennesey, most likely. That's what you drink in first class, is it not?
Oh yeah, this hits the spot. Plenty more where this came from. We keep finding these bottles, like little gems in the sooty snow, everywhere. And a while ago the commander decided that we all needed to take a break. Let off some steam. And from the sound of his crying, he's letting it out, all right. Never could hold his liquor, the commander. You'll have to excuse him. Its just... well, it's a bit much to take in, you see?
Lets have another one. Green bottle. Cap intact, label burnt off. Lucky it didn't boil. But then it was fast, wasnt it? The fire, i mean. Oh, nice, port wine.
Most of my friends here are really hard men. Polar explorers. Military men. Tough guys, but they couldnt bring themselves to sit down with you, and so here we are, you and I, all alone, off by ourselves.
I guess the first thing that struck me about you when i first saw you was your hair. Strange, that. Not the very fact that you were sitting here, in your chair, seatbelt on. Strange to see your hair flowing in the wind, covering your face.