Ansgar grinned at the hand in his hair but then looked up at the Brit. "I'm not smashed. I'll still get your brother drunk."

Ansgar shook his head at Mick and would have said something but all that came out was a high pitched scream of shock. The back of his neck was like being electrocuted from the way it effected his nerves. He's instantly squirming to get away. The Dane watched the two and snorted another laugh.

"Aarne was right! You Brit's can't take the mule." He jumped a little from the shirt dumped on his head. Grabbing it, balling up the shirt, and throwing it back at Rex.