"Nope," Haymitch drawled. "But it's stronger than white liquor, so it's got that going for it." He was never going to get used to calling it vodka, despite what Russia insisted. Never mind that the stuff Ripper made was a bit stronger than standard vodka and tasted less like lighter fluid.

"You just arrive?" Small talk was the bane of Haymitch's existence, but he was getting to that point in drunkenness where he talked to fill space and kept from throwing up and passing out on the floor. One of these options was better than the other.