No, this isn’t a herpetology exhibit, it is a bottle of alcohol with a poisonous snake in it, incidentally selling for over $500. I can’t find an English link - someone else who can read Japanese confirm I’m not making this up!!
As far as alcohol goes, Snake holds his liquor best, followed by Ganondorf, Captain Falcon, and Samus. The weakest is Pit- and by extension Dark Pit. The only two that drink who are incapable of getting drunk are Palutena for being a goddess of course, and Kirby, whose body metabolizes it far too quickly. Lucario is not allowed to drink for he loses his control of Aura.
A drunk Pit once shot Link in the chest with his bow saying something along the lines of how he was Cupid and Link should fall in love with him.
Drunk Little Mac is surprisingly chatty and is the only time the Smash gang can get him to hold a conversation.
Dark Pit is even more mean and bitter while drunk but is surprisingly soothed when he’s allowed to hold Ike’s hand and touch his muscles.
Zelda is quick to vomit after just a few shots but will swear up and down she doesn’t vomit because vomiting would be “unlike a princess.”
Marth uses an Osakan dialect of Japanese while drunk, which not even his fellow Fire Emblem comrades can understand completely.
After enough to drink, Greninja will start believing some of the characters are Pokemon. He subsequently attempted to return Donkey Kong (a Primeape), Bowser (Drudiggon), and Little Mac (Machoke?) to their supposed Pokeballs.
Drunken Shulk has difficulty keeping his clothes on and usually ends up in Robin’s bed (with or without Robin).
A drunk Peach has very loose lips and is notorious for spilling all the gossip she has gathered up to that point.
Robin and Reflet, as expected, are incapable of remembering the night before after drinking.
Drunk Sheik likes to be dared (even when no one issued a dare) to do dangerous feats, including but not limited to hanging upside down from the chandelier, waking up a sleeping Charizard, and attempting to swim.
“Dean…?” His head lifted, turning to the direction of the
door. The room was dark, the only source of light from the open door. Which you
“(Y/N)? Do you need something?” You folded your arms, taking
a step into the room.
“I thought I heard something…” Dean shook his head,
pretending not to know what you were talking about. You stepped closer, trying
to act nonchalant. It had been like this for weeks. You weren’t blind. You could
see how the bags under his eyes were darker than normal, that he poured whiskey
into his three cups of coffee. He was shaky, but just barely. Something only a
hunter could notice. Sam had learned not to pry, seeing as his brother would
threaten to ‘shove a shotgun up his ass if he asked if Dean was okay again’.
And Cas wasn’t much help, seeing as he wasn’t very empathic. The angel had told
you however, how he could tell Dean was acting distant.
And yesterday, Dean took a shot at a ghost, and missed.
Missed a clear shot from ten feet away. That’s when you decided it had gone far
“You feelin’ okay?” Dean just nodded, back still to you.
“You seem… Off.”
“I’m fine. What are you doing up anyway? Its twelve A.M.” You
stepped close enough to shove him playfully.
“You’re up too you know.” Dean was quiet and you plan to pry
the truth from him casually went out the window. He reached to his nightstand,
snaking a bottle of liquor and taking a sip. He barely cringed when drinking
You flicked on his lamp before he could stop you and you
both cringed as the light illuminated the room. You blinked, your eyes falling
on Dean’s face. His head was ducked down. Refusing to meet your gaze.
“Dean look at me.”
“Damn it Dean, just look at me!” You ducked, catching his
eyes. He tried to look away, but not fast enough. “Are you… Crying…?”
“No! Get outta my room!” You got on your knees, placing your
hands on his thighs and ducking further to meet his eyes.
“Dean…” He didn’t respond, he only reached up to cover his
face. You placed a hand on his forearm, gently beckoning it to stay down. “Dean…
Come on… What’s going on?”
“Nothin’…” His voice was broken, barely a whisper.
“Don’t lie to me.” Dean’s jaw clenched and his green eyes
flicked up to lock with yours.
They were swimming with emotion. His entire being was tense
and knotted, caught up in mixed feelings and regret. Dean stared at you,
shaking his head. More tears escaped his eyes and he shut them, hanging his
head. You straightened up and pulled his body into yours, tucking his head onto
your shoulder. You stroked his hair, whispering soothing words as his body shook
with the first sob.