Sorry, Daisy, that's a special problem outfitted neatly into a hilarious mental image, crafted just for you. Raw, animalistic power, with tools it can't manage to use. A modern tragedy for the times.

"Maybe it'll get special little straps for the tools. I don't know, Daisy, work with me here."

His playful needling simmers once they're inside, and he lets out a breath. There's a weariness to it, an exhaustion that's just caught up with him.

"...Thank you, by the way. For, ah... I don't know. Not trying to kill me about all of this? That's been a popular response."

( OOC: omfg i came to reread this and found out i never got a notif for this reply?? dreamwidth notifications constantly reigning hell upon me >:O )