"Ool, I've been looking for you," she cried. He looked at her hazily.
"You don't want me," he spoke carefully, managing not to slur his words. "I'm Ool, the lady killer. I'll get you if you don't watch out." He giggled and tipped up the bottle. It was empty so he waved the waiter over.
"My capac—capacity's increasing," he told the girl. "At first I couldn't finish one bottle. Now I can almost finish two."
"Ool, listen—" she caught at his arm.
He brushed her aside and reached for the bottle in the waiter's hand.
The girl beckoned the waiter aside, whispered to him. He shook his head, then nodded as she slipped something into his hand. They came to the table.
"You'd better go with the lady," the waiter advised, but Ool ignored him and took another drink. The waiter lifted him to his feet. Through the thickening fog Ool saw the man's fist go back.
Then came the oblivion he wanted.
He awoke in what seemed to be a laboratory. It seemed familiar. So did the voices he heard, both talking at once. They broke off as he moved.