"That is a predator!" Ghost adresses you, concerned. You're drunk, perched in Soap's lap, and squeezing his cheeks. You wiggle his head as he laughs up at you amused.

"He's not a predator!" You continue to make little sounds.

"What are you—" You cut him off, looking at him as you scrunch your face.

"We're blooping!" You ignore Ghost continuing your actions with Soap.