He knew there was going to be trouble the second, the mere second, she said, "if that is what you wish." And there was. Sweeney liked being right, but not about something like this. The oregano fell and he felt his anger taking over from the faux amusement he was showing. Granted, it smelled nice, and it was probably an improvement on how he smelled after spending the night under the dock, but that wasn't the point.
The point was that the Djinn just didn't know when to quit. One day it was going to get her into a slew of trouble. Trouble she wouldn't have a master to bail her out of. He silently wished he had her bottle, or lamp, or whatever it was that she called 'home' and had her trapped inside. He would do one of two things. Either he'd toss the thing out into the water and let it land where the City willed it, or he'd make himself her master and see how funny she thought that.
In fact, as he thought of that, he continued to laugh. He was struggling to his feet, having difficulty partly because of the alcohol coursing through his veins and partly because the ground was slippery thanks to the tomato sauce.
When he finally got to his feet, he walked over to the laughing Djinn, smiling wide and opening his arms in preparation for his next movement. He was about to hug her, to cover her in the tomato sauce and oregano mixture he was covered in himself.