Eliot would not be drinking any of that creepy day-glo orange crap. So, you know, there was probably plenty, just waiting for Hardison to arrive.

There were also some actual oranges and a hand juicer around here, somewhere.

"Why the hell would wearin' a coat inside make you sick? You get pneumonia from inhalin' water and shit." Eliot shook his head and resigned himself to sitting up. It'd probably feel better on his chest, anyway. "Real ponies can't get you sick. Pinkie's . . ." special. "Weird." That too.