Amaretto picks up the three glasses and puts down two before pivoting around this perch. His feet plant on the ground, and he throws his body up and out of the stool. Suddenly his face is planted on the ground.
He stands up and wipes off his shirt, then downs the last glass that somehow didn't spill.
"Where did- Ah screw it, I'ma looki' myself."
He starts to shuffle awkwardly towards the entrance as he dare that lifting his feet might make his face connect with the ground again.