[Cheerfully,] Let 'em come; I'll be hard to swallow. If they start feet-first I've still got my hands free to cast. [He'd die, he's sure, but he wouldn't go without a fight and that's enough.]

Stroganugg, [echoed and delighted; he's grinning from the tone.] That's a motivator, is it? Letting them know what they've avoided-- What did you name the other sixteen? [Give him food puns.] ...Huh. So how d'you think these fancy papered Orlais nugs might turn out?

I mean--I don't know I could care for one, [he's telling himself that so he doesn't give in to his own soft heart and curiosity,] but out of academic interest.