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Belly Up to the Bar

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"Now, Thor, my friend. I think I advanced your lessons in blending into 21st century Earth a bit too quickly. So, back to the basics!" Tony exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and moved behind the bar of his current home. "Let's see... Shall we start with Laphroaig? Hmmm... That may be too strong for your palate. We may have to work up to it. Caol Ila? Balvenie? Scapa? Oh, I know! Macallan! A good one to start with."

Thor looked confused. "Stark? What are those?"

"Names of single malt scotch. The best of the best," Tony replied as he pulled out a slightly dusty bottle with a plain white label and tasteful lettering. "We'll have to start you off on the less peaty end, but it shouldn't be long until you're enjoying the smokier end of the spectrum."

"This is a type of alcohol?"

"Yes."

Thor grinned. "Oh, good. Do you have peppermint schnapps?"

Tony barely caught the bottle of whisky before it fell to the floor from his suddenly nerveless fingers.