Mal nods in affirmation. "There happened to be a shot or two of tequila involved in our little game, but it ain't exactly like I'm [drunk off my ass] or anythin'. Just...spinny."

As the green sparks emerge from Barty's wand, Mal becomes distracted and his eyes are focused out into space for a moment before returning to Barty. "But why'd ya wanna change the color o' my bunk? You should gimme somethin' instead." He lifts his hand to his chins, stroking his imaginary whiskers before coming up with the perfect idea.

"Why not gimme a shirt like Wash's? I totally think it's time for folk to realize he's not the only gŏu on the boat can be colorful."