[Spy really doesn't care, so he doesn't comment. Instead, he busies himself with inspecting his food, contemplating the level of drugs in it. Probably enough to get him through a whole night of Scout kicking his bed, if his teammate would even be up for it after his own serving of drugs.
He takes a seat at the table, drawing his legs to his chest to try to preserve the warmth in his feet. Balancing his plate on his knees, he casts at glance over at his teammate.]
"White broccoli"? [Squinting at Scout's plate.] Whatever. If you want it, come get it.
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He takes a seat at the table, drawing his legs to his chest to try to preserve the warmth in his feet. Balancing his plate on his knees, he casts at glance over at his teammate.]
"White broccoli"? [Squinting at Scout's plate.] Whatever. If you want it, come get it.