He grins and lets out a soft chuckle when she laughs, dropping his head for a moment until she comes back with that much needed comfort food. Different taste or not, the smell already has his stomach grumbling softly in complaint. "At least my room doesn't look like a post-war scenario, so we have that working for us."

While he waits for her to answer, he picks at a few pieces of the meat, but not yet digging into the meal properly. Enlightening, she says, and the word she chooses doesn't sit all that well with him, but then again... he has a feeling none of it would, no matter what. But he does have one guess, at the very least, and he has to ask - has to know. "He threw the Hulk at you, didn't he?"