"Are you drunk?" Pansy asked, slightly amused. She couldn't figure out why else he'd be rambling on about pansies. With her free hand, she held two fingers up in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?" As soon as she said this, she began switching the number of fingers around. Two, then five, then three, then one.
Pansy wrinkled her nose. "I'm so glad I could be of service, though if you burned the pizza, that's your own fault." She wasn't about to let him get away with maligning her past self. With a smirk, she added, "A good pizza maker doesn't let anything distract him from his work."