Distressingly, huh? I'm pretty sure I'm the one who oughta be distressed.

[He glances back at Barabas, a corner of his lips quirking up, tentatively. If he can make a joke out of it, out of his first, instinctive reaction to the other guy just being who he is - the freaky, terrifying monster movie person that he is - then it's almost like Hank's not being a shithead about it. Right?]

But uh, yeah. It's supposed to be food. If I can make it stop leaking out of the fucking walls. Shit!

[He'd pinched a spot just up from where he'd been aiming at, but at least it didn't shoot into his eye this time.]

My fucking hands-

[They shake a little bit as he moves them to his lap, and he balls them up so they stop.]

Hey your uh- your... paws. [God.] Do they, uh. Work like hands, still? Can you pinch little things closed, or?