He looks at the flowers that suddenly spring up from the blood on the ground and smiles slightly, finding them awfully pretty in his altered state. After a few seconds, though, he lays back on the grass -- or rather flops over, really, in a not particularly dignified manner. Good thing he's too intoxicated to feel particularly self-conscious.

"Charlie's my roommate. My business partner."

His best friend. He pokes at the anemones that came from the blood Ned wiped on the grass, and frowns. "Did you mean to make those flowers grow there, or did it just happen?"