[That actually gets some distant cousin of laughter out of Hank, a huff of air and an amused tilt to his eyebrows.]

So you tell me you can only talk to me cause I'm a stranger and then you ask me who I am? Maybe I shouldn't tell you. Maybe I should just let you keep thinkin of me as 'that weirdo who cries on his dog'.

[He tilts the neck of his bottle toward said dog and then, as he speaks, toward himself, doing the introductions.]

He's Sumo, if you need a name here. I'm an asshole. Nice to meet you, I guess. Nice as anything can be, right now.

[He shrugs a shoulder and then starts to hold out his free hand for her to shake, remembers his 'power', and changes the gesture into rubbing at his pants, instead. He aims a tight, unhappy smile at the ground, then at her. Not every introduction needs a handshake. It's fine.]