[Freya glances over with a cheeky smile before taking a solid drink of it.]

[...but really, she'll be sipping it from here on out. She meant it.] Yeah. Rotten, smashed, gut full of piss, off my face, legless, hammered. What'dya you think I am, a one-pot screamer?

[She drawls out, laying her accent on thick. Freya's sure she missed more than a few bits of slang, but she's not really putting effort into this.]