Xaviers!

"I hope you tolerate your drink better than your fist tolerates throwing a punch," he smirked.

"Bad form is all. The bag wasn't playing by Queensberry rules."

"Mmhmm..." he smirked.

"If you really want to able to throw a punch, I could help."

"Naaaaah. I was in boxing remember? It just snuck up on me."

'Bad form' actually was the reason Basil had hurt his own hand. In a tizzy, he smacked it instead of balling up his fist properly and punching it, causing his hand to strike at an awkward angle no one was meant to hit from. He just didn't want to fess up to him being in a tizzy in the first place.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Guess I'm still a little... distracted."

"What do you think would make you feel better?" Basil thought about it for a moment. "Pub?"

"I've... umm... never gone drinking..." he answered, oddly shy about it.

"Well then, you're a strapping young lad of appropriate age. Let's get pissed!"

"Lead the way then drunken master."