He made the terrible mistake of leaving you unattended at the bar, so now he was placed on "drunk duty"

You laid in his lap, looking up at his skull balaclava, rambling about nothing in particular. "Last night I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup, and you were mustard" you said, slurring your words while he pretended to be interested, like talking to a child. "Which is weird because usually you're mayonnaise, why do you suppose that is?"