Malcolm frowned for a minute, wondering what his opposite self would be like. Probably Neil Howie.

"Christ," he said out loud. "Fucking powder keg, this place. And I got no fucking confidence in anyone keeping it under control, I'll fucking tell you that for nothing." He finished off his glass in one swallow, wincing a little at the burn. "Funny thing. I don't normally drink much. Didn't, I mean, back home. But I'm right fucking with you on the whisky right now."