Mixing Sauces? That's the least of your problems, lady

Because really- there is so much more to focus on here.

How about, "hey, I suddenly realized that I'm a very cute girl who has been spending every Sunday afternoon with an ugly, unshaven slob with a stupid face and no table manners.  I can do SO MUCH BETTER than you."

Or how about "I'm getting really sick of just sitting here, decorating a table at this dive, watching you stuff your blank, moron face with junk.  Why I am here, besides the fact that I help you show well for your equally worthless friends?"

Or "why do you always have to act as if you have not eaten for three days, or that if you don't clean out the basket of wings inside of three minutes, it will be taken from you?  Is there something in your childhood you'd like to talk about (to someone who cares- not me?")

Or maybe "is it really necessary for you to consume three beers per glass while chomping down these wings?  Just once, I'd like you to be the designated driver so I can have a beer.  Is that a possibility for the near future?"

Or hey- if you really want to focus on the whole mixing-sauces  thing- "I'm just curious- did it ever even occur to your disgustingly self-centered brain that I might like to use some of the sauce before you slopped it all over the table, not to mention considering that I might not want to eat sauce that has your saliva mixed it in, you ridiculous, revolting overgrown child?"