"I wouldn't put it past you," she says. "Alright, alright, sorry. I know, you can be taught. But sometimes dealing with you, I can't decide if you're a rascally whelp that's always getting into trouble, or a dignified peer of mine. You switch back and forth so rapidly, I fear I might get whiplash," she teases, stroking his hair, idly. "Do you think they'll actually get it to work? They're not organic, so..."