Tuco's shoulders jerked as the man's face mashed onto the counter. He looked startled, then annoyed, his features stretching and squashing with the realization that it's a lot harder to start bets when one of the two competitors is unconscious.

He took the offered glass, spared it the briefest of glances and drained it. Was busy clearing his throat loudly when Visscher returned to his side again.

"Very kind," he said, nodding towards the packet of tea. "But very wasted, too. He's never going to thank you, friend."