"What? No way! They don't have any alcohol in them." A beat, and a confused little jump when Harley tugs her chair closer to the two of them. "They don't taste like they do anyway." But she'll taste the last one covered in whipped cream just in case. Not because Majima's turned his attention to other drinks at the table. Really!

But she almost chokes as she hears the names of the things she's been drinking. There's some sputtering and coughing as she catches her breath, her face, ears, and neck all turning bright red instantly.

"Th-they're called what?" She doesn't want to believe it, and so she clumsily (wait, why is she so clumsy all of a sudden?) reaches out to the nearest server and asks about their shots. The blue haired young man confirms that Harley was correct about the names and that Majima was correct about all of them being filled with a lot of alcohol. Amelia thanks him and then turns back to her companions with a flustered look on her face.

She's, ah, going to drink one of those things with lemons in it and then hide in her ginger ale for a minute. "...I think singing would be a lot less embarrassing than ordering another round of those," she says with a nervous laugh.