A/N: For the explanation of where this came from, you have to understand that The Original Frizzi and I have a (completely fantastic) habit of exchanging youtube videos with each other. Search "Julian Smith - Hot Kool Aid" and you'll see my inspiration. :-D I blame her for this small piece of insanity. You, however, can THANK her for that, since this is vastly different from anything I've written before. :-D Enjoy - and reviewers get Hot Kool Aid as a treat.

"I'hm fhinished, Oghren," Alistair said, taking the utmost care to pronounce each word without slurring. He and the dwarf had snuck away to the castle kitchens to get smashingly drunk before bed, and he was most certainly there. He stood up and pushed himself away from the table, and the dwarf caught his hand.

"Wait, Warden. Before you go - try this." He slid a cup across the table, and Alistair peered at it carefully. He shook his head and pushed it back.

"I...can't. Lyra'll kill me as it is," Alistair said. "She's..." he belched. "Waiting."

"Married three days, and the ol' bitch already has you on a schedule, huh?" Oghren snorted. "The ol' ball and chain. Yer not her slave! Are you a man, or aren't you?"

"Hey, I'hm a man," Alistair complained. "Iss not like that."

"Then...drink," Oghren said. He nudged the cup toward Alistair again.

The king looked into the cup. The liquid was steaming, and looked to be a dark, gem-like red.

"What is it?" Alistair asked.

"My own special brew. Hot." Oghren giggled. "Been workin' on it fer weeks. Yer my first tester."

Alistair considered this, his fuzzy brain struggling to process what being Oghren's first tester might mean. He was drunk, but he wasn't that drunk. Being the first person to taste anything that Oghren made was begging for trouble. He'd be massively hung over as it was...he didn't need to sprout more hair on his chest, or grow an extra toe.

"No. I really can't. Who knows what it'll do to me." He stood again, and Oghren slammed the cup down on the table. Red liquid sloshed from the cup and spread itself across the table, running in brilliant rivulets.

"Maker, Oghren, what the hell is that stuff?"

"It's fruit-flavored. Taste it."

"No."

"Taste it."

"No."

"TASTE IT!" Oghren roared, and Alistair sat down again in surprise. Oghren wrapped Alistair's fingers around the steaming cup, and watched eagerly. Alistair looked blearily at the drink, trying to think of another argument.

"If you don't taste it, I'll pour it all over the floor and I'll blame it on you," the dwarf threatened.

"Oh, real mature, Oghren. What do you think this is, boarding school?" Alistair snickered.

"Don' tell me you like the thought of Gretchen chewing you out for messin' up her kitchen floor."

Alistair recalled the temper of the cook, and chewed his lip pensively. The stuff was so red, it looked like it would stain worse than Darkspawn blood.

"What about the time you wanted us to try your other thing? What was it...oh. I r'member. Molded cheese covered nug wrapped in seaweed. We were all sick. Wynne was hard pressed to keep up with th' vomiting."

"The cheese was just too molded. Some people like blue cheese."

"I'm not drinking this," Alistair said. His head was rapidly clearing, and Oghren's face darkened. He drew his dagger and slammed it into the wood of the table, where it quivered.

"Drink it."

"No."

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"DRINK IT! If you love me at all, you'll DRINK IT!" Oghren bellowed, and Alistair gulped.

"Uhm...look. Oghren."

"Don'cha care about me, Alistair?" Oghren whined. "Don'cha wanna support me in this? All I wanna do is make a drink that can be enjoyed by everyone. It's a dream. Are you gonna shit all over my dream? Yer cold, Warden. Cold." He shook his head, disappointment all over his features, and Alistair looked again at the cup.

"Please. Warden. Drink. My. Hot. Fruity. Drink."

Alistair stared at the dwarf. He was three inches from Alistair's face, with the most intense look Alistair had ever seen in his normally easy-going eyes. His rancid breath was making Alistair want to back up. Now.

"...Hot."

"Hot. And fruit-flavored." Oghren said, eagerness coming to his face. He sat back and watched, a fiery look in his eyes, keeping his stare firmly trained on Alistair's face.

Alistair contemplated the cup, and then slowly brought it to his lips. He took a tiny, tiny sip...and then took another.

"Well?" Oghren said.

"It's...good." Alistair took another drink, and then another. "Quite good." He drained the cup, enjoying the overly-sweet, almost syrupy consistency.

"See?" Oghren was triumphant. "I knew ya'd like it."

"I do. And now, I'm going." Alistair stood up, took three steps, and toppled over onto the floor, out cold. Oghren glanced back at him, and then picked up the cup.

"Hmmm...maybe it needs work," he mused, and then stumbled toward the door to get Alistair's wife, and possibly Wynne, too.