[The guy's casual air, the talking about nothing like Hank's not- like this is just another day, and the whole not looking at him thing - it helps. It helps. It's almost like he's not actually choking on nothing like a moron, it's almost like he can keep trying to get himself under control without it being a big fucking deal. Before he tries to talk again he's quiet a few seconds, focusing on that, the one maybe-not-terrible part of all this instead of focusing on anything else.]

That's right, you better- walk that back, I'm gonna, gonna slap the shit out of you if- if you fatshame my fuckin dog. Go ahead though, he doesn't uh, he doesn't bite. Not 'less you got cheese.

Fuck. Am I uh, run-running this shitshow? Is that what's happening here?

[He murmurs that to himself, then takes a couple more breaths.]

Fuck, okay, um. Sorry about- [Hank glances at the guy, briefly, gesturing at his own shoulder.] -when you, uh. Didn't mean to, it's just. Magic bull- bullshit, you know?