At first, all Caroline earns herself is an almost dismissive glance to the side, red-on-black eyes flickering over her in a casual, almost disinterested expression. The fact that she's apparently a chunky girl in an even chunkier girl's dress doesn't phase him much at all, but then again this particular Cajun has seen a lot in his time at the mansion. Remy himself, of course, isn't changing size. He is the same six-foot-two he's been since he more or less got finished with puberty, and it's doubtful if he even really has any body fat left on him at all. His clothes are not in danger of falling off, no matter how much some people in the mansion might see that as a bonus.

"Ot'er Creole chefs?" Remy asks, skeptically, and even in those three words, his accent is apparent. New Orleans, but apparently according to Caroline's worldview, the wrong kind of New Orleans, since he has the marble-mouthed way of mushing together vowels and consonants indiscriminately of a true Cajun. "I wasn't 'ware dere was somebody here b'sides me dat gives a rat's ass 'bout anyt'in' but cheeseburgers an' pizza." He gives Caroline another quick glance before saying, speculatively, as a statement rather than a question, "You's new, 'dough."