[Shock and awe, Gilgamesh actually manages to be helpful, too. Whereas Setsuna only has a single bottle to contribute, Gilgamesh has several—all finished or nearly finished, once containing precious alcohol and now saved only for novelty. He happily hands them over and pats himself on the back, considering it his good deed for the day. Every tyrant got at least one!

Gilgamesh approaches the door and studies it with a thoughtful expression.]

That will most certainly attempt to chomp at us should we draw near.

[Brilliant deduction, Gilgamesh. Fortunately, the solution's also right on the tip of his tongue. Gilgamesh tiptoes until he's nearly in snapping range, then wedges his sword to prop the door open. It hisses and snarls, but cannot reach him. The space he's managed to make is tight, but if they all suck in, they should manage to fit.]

Fold the bike for now, Setsuna, and climb over me. You as well, Vietnam.

[...should, but butts might wind up in faces with hasty maneuvering. Once again, Gilgamesh takes one for the team.]