Michael just narrows his eyes at Tzipporah, holding his hands out as if to ask what in God's name she could possibly come back for. She's gone before the question can be answered, though, and is mercifully replaced with Lee, who has returned with more booze. Michael, even in his own drunkenness, can tell that Lee really doesn't need any more, especially any more of whatever-that-is.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, taking his glass. “I shouldn't have said anything about that asshole Lyle.” Never mind Tzipporah acting like a brat. “Look, don't drink that, I don't want you to pass out.”