I lean back in my chair, grinning at her, waiting for the effects to kick in. I remember when Zoey was a tiny little runt, no more than arms and legs, running around our ship. She tried sweetjuice for the first time after we brought back a carafe from a station cantina and then drunkenly wandered around the Little Sister for hours, talking to her shoe. It made her drunk beyond any alcohol, and after that hilarious incident, we kept sweetjuice off the ship.
