"Gee, Dave, first you get me an alien dong, then something I'm not sure isn't pee, and now a guilt trip? This is the best birthday ever." But he's just ribbing and he elbows Dave none too gently, but not really in the way of actually hurting him, either.

He's got a point, though. Intentional guilt trip or not, he'd feel bad for it to go to waste. Sure, some else would gladly take it, but Dave didn't get it for them. He peers at the drink again, and figures it's now or never. He starts counting down mentally from five, and when he gets to two he just... knocks it back. While he's chugging the entire thing in one go, he's pretty okay, mostly because he's holding his breath. But as soon as he sets the empty mug down, a few seconds pass, and then he makes... a face. The face. Dave knows the one. The one all their stupid friends make, like it's some kind of universal concept set forth by Sburb that requires all players be able to make that particular face.

It's not a happy face, as he sits there with his whole face scrunched up, trying to push the taste out of his mouth like a dog that's gotten the bright idea to eat peanut butter.

After a few very long seconds, he recovers enough to give Dave an expectant look that says it's his turn now, and also to ask, "Can't we just go back to buying each other shitty movie props?"