Hurtling across the room, Tsunade smacked into Jiraiya, bowling him over and ripping his mug from his hand. Jiraiya blinked fuzzily up at her, uncomprehending; all he'd done was pour a fresh beer into his mug. What was wrong with that? What was she all upset about? Women. Bah.

Tsunade jammed her hand into his mug, sending gushers of foam and beer everywhere: up her arm, over the sides of the mug, onto Jiraiya's chest--and onto her own, he noted, leering a little. Not noticing, Tsunade snapped, "You should know better than to leave your old beer mugs on the floor, idiot! If you're going to drink beer, put the mug on the table! The table!"

And her hand came out of his mug, bearing...

... urk...

... a large handful of writhing black slugs.

"Slugs like beer, stupid! If you leave it on the floor they'll climb in! Be more careful!" And dropping his mug onto the kotatsu, she wheeled around and carried her prize from the room.

Jiraiya watched her go, his greenish face pulled down in a rictus of horrified disgust. "I almost drank that..." Standing up, he gingerly picked up the mug, letting it dangle from his thumb and forefinger, and dropped it into the trash.

A new mug--a clean mug--and a fresh beer later, Jiraiya settled down at the kotatsu. "Damn women," he muttered, replaying the sight of Tsunade's wet shirt in his mind even as he put his feet under the covers.

... where his bare feet smacked up against a nest of slippery, writhing scales...

"KYAAAAAAA~! JIRAIYA!" a different feminine voice shrieked. "DON'T SIT AT THE TABLE!"