"You actually used lump sugar? That's old school, I have to give you that. Not what I expec.... well black is good."

Clint moves to take the mug, his hand twitches sharpy and he winces before switching hands to take it with the other. Picking the couch as a likely place to sit down and not expect to get up again for a while Clint moves stiffly that way and slowly eases himself down into the edge and then back to settle into the cushions.

"So I'm guessing from the general air of causality and relaxation that you either don't know whats been on the news or you don't care... or you're drunk-"

Clint sips the coffee and makes a face.

"- this is terrible."