"Of course you do, you're tiny and adorable. You're designed to exist in gaudy shit like that." He rolls his eyes at her. "Me? I look like a waiter for theater camp. Look like I oughta have a towel to mop my friend's sorry ass off the ice."

He says that all too flippantly and he shrugs, looking a little relieved. "You're lucky. I lied. Prison is balls. Food sucks and they had us separated by force fields the whole time. Didn't figure they'd be letting us out so soon, either." He looks up to the ceiling. "Thank you, benevolent overlords."