Tell you what though. If Doc ever got trapped in a mine he would lose his shit faster than Malcolm has even if he's only screaming on the inside.

"I'll be fine." He ducks in to the bedroom he'd been occupying and shoves the first aid kit into his own bag before bringing it out and leaving it on top of Raylan's prized chair. The shine can wait for their second trip. Doc's gotten some basic cooking supplies out of the pantry as well so it might make them feel a little better that they're making a second trip for other things beyond just a big crate of alcohol.

"We do need more yeast, but it's stocked in the store. Might take my time with this one." Now that they have at least a dozen bottles to tie them over, there isn't the same level of urgency. And while he's not going to make some kind of experimental organic hipster brew, a couple of steps that he'd rushed through the first time he can probably go slow now. He can probably make a bigger batch too, since he's got the time to be making extra cornmeal from scratch.

Going to the front door, he pulls one of the outdoor chairs over to hold it open so they can just move in and out more easily.

"Presume you two picked somewhere nearby? You came right back real quick."