So Senor Saucy was able to get up on his own. Axel would have applauded, just to rub it in, but he didn’t feel much like moving his hands from the glass. If he did he’d probably slip just like Zidane did, and he wasn’t up for making a fool out of himself twice in one day. Instead he settled for a smirk. “You made it. Great job!” If he ever needed a laugh, he could remember Zidane’s oh-shit expression and be in stitches.

“So you want my name? You got it. I’m Axel. Nice to meet you, Slippy.” He snorted a bit. “Oh, and you’re very welcome,” he added, because he was just that generous. “Are you really that much of a horndog, or is there really something you’re looking for by sitting up here? Yeah, the view is marvelous, but it’s impractical, especially for someone without magic.”