[The abundance of sugar is a little too shocking for his brain to register it as pleasant quite yet, but at least Weir has enough good grace to not actually deign the thing too offensive to eat. He swallows, making a face, while some distant part of his mind tries to helpfully supply that it'll at least provide an energy boost, whatever the hell this too-sweet, too-fried thing is.]
Not so "dreadful" that you can't sit here and eat these while knocking back vile wine with a smile.
[Sometimes you have to make do with what you have; he understands that intrinsically. But you don't have to sit here and pretend to like it, my guy.]
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Not so "dreadful" that you can't sit here and eat these while knocking back vile wine with a smile.
[Sometimes you have to make do with what you have; he understands that intrinsically. But you don't have to sit here and pretend to like it, my guy.]