Noah, after a long, considering moment, just shrugs. Sal is an adult, and is apparently resilient to this, so who is he to push? Others will do it, anyway. He shifts to set the cookies down on a napkin in between them, a silent offering to share the rest of his haul.

"They're always tough, but it felt a little rougher this time. Maybe it's just from being rusty. No robots at my parents' place to practice with." Almost subconsciously he flexes his prosthetic hand.

"Sucks to kind of eat shit regardless though." It's a reference to both of them, as far as Noah's concerned, but he's not going to fuss about clarifying unless Sal takes offense.