The attack on his toes was more amusing than it was painful. He'd always known his boost would be worth the investment, but it was enough to make him shift position so he had his hands braced on the back of the counter instead of the hip check. Petty little Barry Allen. He'd always known he had some of that in him.
"I'm taking these." There wasn't an ounce of question in his voice, either. Not at all. It wasn't so much a matter of needing marshmallows in any particular way, but moreso the gesture. Though he probably did need to look into his food situation. At some point. The stipend wouldn't last him long but the idea of an actual job. No thanks, not at all. He'd have to stop brainstorming. A city was still a city, even surrounded by dinosaurs. So there was always something worth stealing.
"But back to the point, kid. I'm no pro on heroics, obviously, but something tells me you're smart enough to figure something out. At the end of the day, super powers or not, you can't save everybody. People die. People get hurt. And some people who get hurt learn how to get stronger. Don't pretend you haven't already learned that lesson the hard way." He was teetering dangerously close to his own story, but Barry moping around like he was useless just wouldn't do. How was he supposed to give him a hard time like that?
"But enough pep talk. It's not really my thing. I'm starting to feel a little dirty, actually. What is it about you making me feel that way? People are going to talk." His smirk could rival a shark, probably. But that was pretty much the point. "So until you figure out how to make yourself useful relax. Put your feet up. Just not literally."