Mistletoe Anon
She took a step back, in utter shock. Had he just called her a-....well, that wouldn't stand, no sir. She glared, a slightly teary look in her eye. "'ow dare you say suc' a thin' ye' tip bogey!!" she hissed, still in a drunken state, just as he was. "I give th' mug fer yew ta use ye' git."
Well, by this time his face was turning a purple-red color, maybe from the mead, maybe from his mistletoe allergy, maybe from drunken rage, and he bared his fangs at her in response. "I'll says whatever I wants, ya... ya..." He really was bad at making up insults. After tripping over his tongue for a second, he resumed, "Ya overgrown, thorny, wilted weed! I dun want yer mug!"