"Come, have a drink. Please, don't stand on ceremony. Slade's friends are my friends."
With his usual domineering CEO flair, the bald man smiled and pushed two small barrels of liquor across the metal table toward his guests. One of them looked like he had a cross-dressing fetish, with a thick beard and a red cape wrapped around him, making him look like some retro joke.
"Slade already contacted me. Actually, he didn't know that my work here was already nearing its end, so there's no need for you to fight and kill. Just keep me company and chat for a while. Oh, wait a moment. Once they return, I'll introduce you to my friends and Deathstroke's friends—the Legion of Doom."
"Burp! Good, good name! Sounds powerful!"
Thor gave Luthor a thumbs-up.
How could he ever refuse alcohol? He did not care that he did not actually know this bald man, nor did he care whether the drink had been poisoned. While the other man was speaking, he had already popped open the barrel and begun drinking deeply.
After hacking away at Maneaters covered in mouths in some inexplicable world earlier, his throat was parched. With his blood still boiling, a drink was exactly what he needed to wet his throat.
Besides, this bald fellow was a good friend to have. The liquor was delicious, and it was probably expensive.
Perhaps fools really did have fool's luck. Thor did not think too much about it, and of course Luthor had not poisoned the alcohol. Loki ran through a long list of analyses, but her final conclusion was simply—this liquor was safe to drink.
However, she did not drink first. After opening her barrel, she poured some for her mother, then somehow produced a horn and poured a cup for Sif