C'mon, don't sulk... [He's going to feel bad about his stupid puns forever, please do not sulk, he'll beg.....] I'm, uh, totally done. So done.

[See, watch him make a lip-zip gesture and then go to collect some knives, which tragically involves having to open a drawer and root around for a bit in what is apparently a loose pile of silverware. Paper plates are at the far end of the counter, and as for salt and pepper...

Well, don't judge him for this, but he presents a handful of those paper packaged, individual-serving salt and peppers that one might grab at the condiments stand at a fast food place. Ahem.]

An egg flipper is a spatula, right? That's a real question, I don't know anything about cooking. There's a spatula in here somewhere... [sigh. more drawers. while he's looking:] Look, I'm really not going to say anything shitty about your arm. This is an arm... friendly zone?

[the empathy curse, it's bothering him!!!]