Wait, you're brewing your own booze? That's flashy stuff!
[Buggy isn't smart enough for second thoughts in this context. It's just alcohol, right? Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.]
Wait, you're monster type? [He's almost mad for a minute. Considering Ace's death, and what people thought of him and Gol D. Roger, it's almost insult to injury that he ended up a monster here. Salt in a wound, the kid isn't a monster, he just didn't stand a chance back home. But Buggy isn't in the mood to dwell on things like that, so he pushes the thought and accompanying emotions away almost as fast as they come into his head.] Yeah, no. I'm not. But it's not like I can't still drink you under a table fabulously. [He probably can't, but he'll make a damn good attempt at it.]
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[Buggy isn't smart enough for second thoughts in this context. It's just alcohol, right? Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.]
Wait, you're monster type? [He's almost mad for a minute. Considering Ace's death, and what people thought of him and Gol D. Roger, it's almost insult to injury that he ended up a monster here. Salt in a wound, the kid isn't a monster, he just didn't stand a chance back home. But Buggy isn't in the mood to dwell on things like that, so he pushes the thought and accompanying emotions away almost as fast as they come into his head.] Yeah, no. I'm not. But it's not like I can't still drink you under a table fabulously. [He probably can't, but he'll make a damn good attempt at it.]