"I honestly couldn't care less whether you believed it was actually beer or not." He smirked, taking a sip from his own, newly arrived beer. "It would be your loss."

Hank observations were troubling, though, and he wondered at what level of consistency things were limited, and how. "It's possible it's dislocation, or...spacial displacement? Heaven knows where we even are in relation to where we were."

He frowned at the thought as well. In his case, it may be something much more organic. "What theories do you have?"