Blinking away from his self-investigation, he's absolutely not sure whether that's an insult or a compliment, but he's more than a little inclined to lean towards the latter. "I know you're trying to be sassy at me," he says, snapping his fingers in a terrible Z formation, all puffed up nonetheless, "but I'm going to take the compliment," he insists, though it's done the work of shaming him away from the reflective surface.

"Here," he says, gesturing with a hand. "Hand me another pile while you tell me how smart I am, like him."