"I see, Vixen. Well, here's wishing you better moments in future. We could all use a few about now."
With that, Mal excused himself and went to the rather formidable looking new arrivals.
"Powered armor at a wedding, gents? And I've been accused of having abominable fashion sense!"
He waggled the rejected spare plate of food in front of the central figure's "face". "I'd offer you some delicious food, sir, but I don't see how you'd cram it into your piehole with that ridiculous garb on..."