"That is a predator!" Soap adresses you, concerned. You're drunk, perched in Ghost's lap, and squeezing his masked cheeks. You wiggle his head as he rolls his eyes 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 Soap, continuing your actions with Ghost.