"Don't. Don't do that." Basch eyed Balthier with as much lopsided sternness as he could muster, aiming a finger at him as if with the intent to wag in a scold, though the finger did nothing of the sort. Whether Basch lacked the capacity for that kind of sudden coordination, or he simply forgot he planned on doing it halfway through, no one could be sure. "Fran is being terribly patient and mindful with us, and we're only going to get worse through the night. If you'll recall, we like Fran." In the process of his nagging, his body leaned further and further back onto the booth seat as if it was now the only thing keeping him up. He at least managed to keep his head from dropping back, if only to spare himself from having to stare at the pair of them at a strange angle.
He at least managed to look as apologetic and sweet as he could at Fran. "I'm not with him." Then, as if it was a very happy medium to their earlier promises, he made a simple request. "If I'm not allowed to have my phone back, which I'm more than certain I'll appreciate later, I don't suppose you might send a text for me? You're likely much..." a burp was properly stifled, and aimed out of the direction of the lovely young woman next to him. "....apologies....but you're likely much better at it than I ever will be anyway." He moved his mug toward his mouth again but stopped just before taking a drink, apparently unable to hold the mug up and speak as the bottom of the glass met the table again. "I'm certain you'll also prevent me from relaying something entirely inappropriate." When that was finished the mug made the entire trek back to his mouth, only for a quick stream of stout to pout from either side of his mouth. He caught himself before it got too far and readjusted the angle of the mug even though he didn't pull it away from his mouth, offering a thumbs up to the other two. Yep, he had it covered now.