She stirred her drink idly, not bothering to touch it after realizing the sparks jumping off of it now and then.

“So what’s this about drunken koalas?” she asked, tilting her head slightly forward to peer at him over her blue-rimmed glasses.

“They got into my drinks at the zoo,” he replied, a pleading look on his face. “I wasn’t even supposed to have them! I’m the only one on the koalas…”

“So you hid them near the area and they got into them,” she reasoned, using hand gestures to convey the idea to herself. “I think I understand. But what do you want me to do about it?”

“Does psychology work on bears?”

“Yes, but..”

“But?” he inquired desperately.

“Koalas aren’t bears, Micheal.”