will cure what ails ya

So after breaking his wrist at Tae Kwon Do and shuffling back and forth from the GP and the emergency ward at the RPA, Max was finally treated to a tight, rigid cast with strict instructions to keep it elevated and not have any alcohol on the threat that it would swell uncomfortably (and potentially explode) under the hard plaster. (Well, the explosion part was an extension in my logic of what severe swelling would entail) It was then, rather sporting of him to shake me up an ice-cold martini and toast my bad mood away with an imaginary gin and tonic (only the tonic was real).

¡Salud!