Ned had seen a younger version of Charlie in Meyer's dream, but not quite that young. He wonders if Charlie was always as... Charlie as he is now, what portion of his current personality was formed by his experiences and what by his nature. Six months of being locked up, at such a young age. Ned remembers how time felt so much slower when he was young, how those four days of his own imprisonment had seemed half a year.

The flavored vodka, when he downs it, is even worse than the brandy had been. If he were a better actor he would pretend it wasn't that bad, just to see the surprise and disgust on Charlie's face, but he's not capable of that. Instead he immediately wrinkles his nose, starts looking for something to wash it down with. There's a sink behind the bar; Ned fills himself a glass of water and drinks it in two big gulps.

Meyer had never really said all that much about what sorts of things he and Charlie did back home, professionally. Apparently they are in the liquor business: unsurprising, considering the time period. "So he imports it, and you two... help with distribution?"