Sam couldn't help but laugh along with Jesse. The bloke had an infectious sort of laugh. His own comment may not have been that amusing, but the bloke's reaction to it certainly was. He grinned at his friend and crunched his crisps, shaking his head in amusement.
"Mm-mmrph-meh-mmph?" He mumbled around his own mouthful, deliberately teasing. He swallowed and stuck his tongue out at Jesse after the gesture told him to forget it, and he downed a healthy amount of alcohol.
Oh, hey. There was a little buzz. He drank again. And continued into his third and fourth drink as the movie played on. It was a funny film, irreverent while also delivering a message. He assumed the message was more than just "Evil people deserve to die violent deaths," but he was a bit too pissed to recognise what it might be.
"He still sounds more Scottish than Irish," he pointed out with a slight slur near the end of the film. He couldn't remember the name of the actor who played the hit-man father, but he knew that face, and he knew he was Scottish, even if the man had done better at losing the elongated vowels. Which he hadn't.