Falcon laughed. It was the kind of laugh that clearly said oh, you poor, sad, sad little man. The bartender, being the perceptive sort, was kind enough to line up several shots of who-knew-what. Two for each of them. To start.

Raising his first shot in a sort of mock-cheer, he smirked the smirk that, when broadcast on intergalactic TV, caused ladies the universe over to spontaneously climax.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with."