The 'holy shits' in the back of Sal's mind were more frequent and more panicked as Jazz responded to what appeared to be his 'ruined afternoon' comment and lifted his arm to where he perched.
Lab rats? Hell, no, Sal was not going to be the invisible third party to whatever conversation Jazz was having in his sleep. The little human dodged past Jazz's probing hand, swinging up to his shoulder. The toolbox was forgotten as he made his way over to sit next to Jazz's ear.
He had to get the hand away from him! So he leaned in next to Jazz's ear and began to talk to him in his sleep:
"Don't touch the lab rat, it has cooties." Sal tried not laugh. "Evil virus cooties. If you poke it, you'll get the cooties and die."