“Extra bread!”

Cheering, he returns to the living room to retrieve his own beer. This is great—usually, when he shared dinner with his dad back home, he’d have to avoid all things unhealthy so the Sheriff wouldn’t indulge. Now that he doesn’t have to worry about his father, he can pig out like the gluttonous teenage boy he is.

“Unless…I mean, do you prefer salad? We could totally have salad. I make a mean salad.”