Haizea grabs the glass and swiftly snags as many drink napkins as she can can reach, steers Matilda away from the bar towards a wall and blocks anyone who might be looking’s view with her body.

“Here,” she says, and holds the napkins up to her face so Matilda can let her nose drain into them rather than onto the nearest surface, which at this point is Haizea. If Matilda ends up spewing rum & cola all over her, though, Haizea is prepared to accept her fate.