Bennett: Excuse me! Waitress! Some water for my friend here!

Cohen: Heeeey! Iss’ you, innit? Sib! You ‘ad my nice sugar drinks spiked t’ loosen me up, din’cha?

Thass’a dirty trick.

Bennett: Is not! This is all on you. Tell him, miss — what’s your name?

Cybele: Um . . . actually, boss . . . I figured it was the only way you’d get anything out of him. How did it go?

One awkward check-paying later.

Bennett: If Cohen gets alcohol poisoning, you are in big trouble, young lady.

Cybele: He won’t! I’ve seen enough of his drinking that I know I didn’t put in more than he can handle.

Bennett: . . . well, good! That was smart. Never stop doing smart things. So we can bundle him back to his hotel, right?

Hey, wake up — where are you staying?

Cohen: Hmrgrmph.

Bennett: Come on, you have to be more coherent than that! What am I supposed to do — take you back to my place?