Crisis averted... and immediately forgotten, apparently. The albino would probably remember that this guy was a good sport, if nothing else.

The slap to his back causes Gintoki to stumble and then overcorrect himself. He pauses, squinting as he successfully fights back another wave of nausea. Once he has proven the victor in this pressing battle of gut and drunken stubbornness - he returns the other's smile.

"Yeah, see? That's... that's the right idea. When your stuck ya might as well find something to call your own. Ain't no use givin in to doom and gloom-"

The samurai leads the other back to the liquor store, which truly is a little worse for wear. An overturned shelf and broken bottles signify a confrontation much more dire than a simple albino booze rat popping bottles. To the trained eye, small splatters of blood are even visible...

And yet Gintoki pays them not a single mind. Instead he waltzes over to the counter and pulls an opened bottle of Junmai Ginjo that he'd clearly hidden from view.

"Here, here. It's sake but... creeps up on ya fast, ya know." Gintoki gives an idle shake of the bottle as he offers it for the other.