Of course I put in a bit more priming sugar. Why would I want flat beer?
Max and Paul are crawling low across the floor. Paul wears a pot as a helmet.
Noises come from where Max and Paul were crawling to, and bottle caps and pieces of broken bottles fly over their heads.
Max: Retreat! Retreat!
Paul: Quick, behind the couch!
Paul, behind the couch, while the enemy fire continues: Told you it was the priming sugar for the whole bucket, not for each bottle.