He chuckled and reached out to shove at Sherlock lightly with a soft laugh. "Wisdom from drunk men," he intoned, quaffing the last of his cup and setting it down between his feet, not wanting more just as of yet. Better to let what he had settle in his belly and his blood, by which time he thought he should probably be close to full on drunk.

"Why would he eat it?" he said, backtracking to the issue of the eyeball, drunken brain wandering in strange circles.