I'll always remember my old boss, who went to dinner in an expensive restaurant which coincidentally caught fire. His PA then wandered the tables as the waiters were trying to evacuate the place, picking up the half-empty wine bottles, before guzzling the lot outside by the warm fuzzy glow of a building fire.
Now where were we? Ah, yes- the whisky. I'll... take care of that.
No I'm absolutely not going to stand outside the club drinking it. I'm going to wait for the temporal anomaly to go away, then drink it sitting in the remnants of one of those nice new wicker chairs we got when the second storey was opened up.