[ oh, sure, the food looks and smells delicious, but McKnight is here to party like the fucking rockstar that he is. anyone who knows him (do you know him? my condolences) is unlikely to be surprised by the fact that he is guzzling down two of the largest drinks the bar has to offer with a meager but growing crowd chanting for his efforts.

once empty, he smacks them down on top of the bar and lets out a wolfish howl before getting another one. look, he just saved a freaking city from nuclear disaster, he has earned this and then some. when in Rome, do as the Romans would do.. in space. he can question it later, right now all he wants to do is partake in purely wholesome activities that definitely are not far too mature for this studio audience.

hot babes, libations for days — this is some kind of heaven. so, are you part of Team Obliterated or Team Karen? the latter need not apply, but anyone else he spots without a shot in front of them? not on his watch, bro. he is sliding a shot down to them with a two-fingered salute. ]

Drink up buddy— hold up, what’s the legal drinking age in space? Ah! Who fucking cares! [ unless you looking too young, then he is reclaiming said drink with some heavy side eye, not going from hero to zero tonight, boys. ]

Damn, they even have milk carton kids in space. Where’s your mom? [ and is she hot. ]