"You are waving a sharp object around in the main hall of this god-forsaken building, so I clearly need to help!" Pam countered firmly. She could feel her face flushing with anger over the fact that she had to yell at her friend, but she wasn't about to let up and let him continue attempting to break things. Being mopey was one thing, being drunk and dangerous was another.
"Now you are not doing fine, you're very drunk and you're being more than a little ridiculous! You've been here just as long as I have, so you know that that thing is just here to annoy us!" She pointed towards the door, despite knowing that the Furby seemed to be on the move. "I can not just stand by while you potentially injure yourself or anyone who might walk past, so if you want to decide that what I just said is that you're stupid and belong in the kitchen, that's fine, but I will not stand for you stabbing around for a dumb nineties toy! Now you can leave all this here and come talk to me, or I'm going to go get Owen or Oliver and have them drag you somewhere where you can get the adult supervision that this," she waved a hand at him, "clearly needs right now until you sober the heck up. Honestly, Jack."