Oh, excuse me. [He pinches out the smoking spot with a thumb and a forefinger and not so much as a flinch.]

Good! I hope you blew it all up before you left. [Some pickles now, maybe. Swiss cheese, and monterey jack. Daikon? Yes, more daikon. Is there any sauerkraut? He dips back into the fridge, tail flicking back and forth. It seems the news of Coda's escape has put the wind back in his sails.]

I was betting on some kind of Jumanji deal. Wanna put money on it?