"I will accept no such advantage." He insists. If it were any other person he would not care so much about any perceived advantage, but in this case, he does.

But what would the prize of this contest be? It only takes him a moment to think of something. It's not malicious, nothing that would hurt outside of pride, but at the same time perhaps a little petty. "If I succeed, you will find that 'objectionable' cubus and voice your regrets on how poorly you received it." He offers a little smirk. "Perhaps you could wax poetically on what an 'inspired' a creation it is."

Then, he confidently raises a glass filled to the brim and drinks it in one gulp. How is that for 'extra' drinks. He would soon ignore the fact that drinking several in quick succession has noticeably made his balance feel a little...questionable. He can feel it in the way his head begins to feel light.