"So do we get dinner with this show, or is this just a preview of coming attractions?" Max asked with an arched eyebrow. He reached beneath the bench, grabbed the bottle that had been set there. He didn't plan on having a drink, really, he was more curious exactly what the man was drinking that would make him completely lose his mind. Max had expected rum from this part of the world, maybe tequila or pisco. This was. . . well, God only knew what this stuff was, but Max figured that the picture of the bleeding polar bear on the label was probably bad news. He gingerly set it back down where he had found it. 

Max ears perked up at the mention of Princess' true heritage. Either it was a bullshit story given to newcomers to make the place seem more interesting, or Puerto Libre was a stranger place than he thought. "This island has a nobility, does it?" He looked down at the unconscious woman, who had clearly been chewed up and spit back out by life. "How the mighty have fallen. You know what, man, I think I might like it here after all. At least I'll never be bored, right?"