Since Mitch knew that he wasn't referring to the stupid dolls, but to getting home early, and since he had nearly reached his pain tolerance for the day, he decided that maybe it would just be dandy to stop talking.
There was no time for debating what the Niflheimer was ordering. A part of the teen wished that this was a sick, sick dream, and that he would just wake up... any minute now...
"Do it your goddamn self," Mitch replied impulsively after he was almost thrown down the hallway. He stumbled, leaned against a wall, and finally used his arm to wipe the blood away from his nose. It was probably a useless gesture because he believed that he was going to bleed much more than this by the time his enemy was through.
As for his words: yes, he was mad enough to mean them. He knew he would regret them later.