The elite slurp from their goblets, usually something boozy. There’s rarely anything potent enough to get the job done, except through extended periods of hearty imbibing without the dreaded safety net of sustenance. On top of the pile, they must imagine (in their own way) the plight of the lower class as they slur their words. They let loose a torrent of racist generalizations that, in their minds, are truly adequate for depicting the struggle endured by their moral superiors each and every day.
WHARVED 