Idris arched an eyebrow at her but acquiesced, deciding he wanted to see this thing burn sooner rather than later. He had no idea how he'd make the 'flag' stay on the ship indefinitely, but tearing a paper napkin in half and sticking a Wheat Thin stick through it would have to do for now. He impaled a french fry near the top of the jumbled mess with said flag and mast. That would have to do for now. Sure, it might not flutter in the breeze as majestically as a real ship's flag would--or even the smarmy Fabio's fictional mode of transportation, but that didn't overly matter.
"I'm not an expert on burnings," Idris stated, "but there's quite a few things made better with music and drinks." Unfortunately, he didn't have either on him at the moment. Considering how serious the blonde was about doing all of this the right way, it was probably safe to assume she wouldn't proceed further without those two special requirements.
It was also probably safe to assume she meant alcoholic drinks. But--and this was perhaps a big but--there did happen to be vending machines in the lobby. Idris had passed by them a few times, never stopping for more than a water and on rare occasion, a Snickers bar.
"Looks like I'm a little short of both today, but if you don't mind a Coke as a replacement..."