“Mouthwash?” Out of everything they could be transporting- it was mouthwash!?

Over a year of travelling, away from home, living like rats in a cage was for mouthwash?

The group was standing around an open crate, half starved, parched to the high heavens.

Swansea didn’t seem to mind— 14% ethanol, enough to get you drunk. Daisuke almost grimaced- surely that didn’t taste nice. He looked back towards you, then to the crate, silently asking for your opinion on the matter.