A Dozen Expensive Wine Bottles

A dozen dark green glass bottles stand in a staggered arrangement on the restaurant table, their labels obscured by dim lighting but their silhouettes unmistakably premium. The labels bear gold foil and cursive scripts, their ornate typography clashing with the vulgar scale of the final bill. Oscar and Anita pale as they tally the pesetas, their shock sharpening with each bottle they imagine uncorked—gluttony measured in glass and froth, not necessity. The bottles remain sealed, silent witnesses to Shockeye’s carnivorous indulgence and the Doctor’s absent oversight.