[ Shit. He holds the shaker away from their faces, eyeing the white smoke swirling upward. The bartender passes their team without blinking, as if the concoction isn't a threat to the smoke detector, so it's not the end of their mixology careers just yet. ]

Drinks here always have a bit of magic going on, [ said in an uneven tone, rising at the end. ] even if I'm sure what that magic-something is. [ so Bree's bang-on with the "accident" assessment. ] The smoke just means we've got style, yeah?