This was no right of passage he had heard of. Still, he figures that Alec, who was presumably a resident of Midgard, would know Earth's right of passages better than he would.

Thor looks down at the drink, foaming with whipped cream. He looks back at Alec, and folds his arms behind his chest.

"Sounds easy enough," he says. Thor leans forward and dips his face towards the cup, whipped cream smothering his beard.

As his mouth works through the shaving cream, his teeth clink against the glass. He nips at it again and this time, his teeth catch it.

Thor bends his head backwards to send the beverage down his throat.

As Thor finishes it, he loses his grip around the rim; he just barely manages to catch it before it hits the table, then sets it down with an audible sound.

Thor grins at Alec proudly, his beard still covered with cream.