The bottle, a clear one with a white label adorned with green letters in another language, is easily drawn out of and away from her grasp to the other side of the bar.

"Spirytus Rektyfikowany," he says. "Ninety-six percent alcohol. With your body weight..."

As he tsks the implications, the glass becomes his next target — and victim. It's taken from her hands just as easily and poured down the drain. However, instead of cutting her off completely, Angel provides her with a clean tumbler and a bottle of Kahlúa.