"I solmenly swear to make only bacon sandwiches, and refrain from any experimentation while in the nude." Also, he didn't fancy scorching his bits if things went awry as they sometimes (read: usually) did. "I don't want to scar your elderly neighbors. Or cause them to molest my person." Terry was quite popular with his Grandmother's lady friends, and knew from experience that old ladies had quite a grip when pinching his bum.
"Green? As in, vegetables?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. He wasn't fond of vegetables as it happened, but he was well versed to eating a balanced meal or his grandmother would box his ears like she had when he was nine. Some things never changed. "Whatever you want is fine. I'll pinch my nose and swallow them down. If you promise to feed me sugar after." Mmm, sugar. All the fine things in life.
He went about making his sandwich, careful not to start any fires. "So, I'm an idiot. I realized that this week." Realizing that came out of nowhere, he turned to Michael, sandwich sans plate in hand. "You asked what was bothering me, and that's it. Me being an idiot I mean. With Harm."