"Yes, Midas. You were so insecure that someone agreed that my music was better than yours that you turned his ears into that of a donkey! But you know, I suppose that's what happens when you're not as well endowed as me," he added smugly. Being smug was how he covered for having his feathers ruffled. "Good thing you're not Aries, don't want to think about all the wars you would have started to make up for that."
"Sure, sure," he chuckled, nose wrinkling with delight. "That's why you're not on any of the charts. Maybe the world is finally figuring out good music?" He ribbed with a snerk. Not that Pan had any real room to talk, he had lost what little money he had saved up trying to front two bands who never made it off the ground, but he had no intention of making that known.
"Shame that you have to vanish. The nice thing about being a stoner, man. No one questions if you just..." He hooded his eyes and splayed one hand out. "....chill." Pan snorted as he was given the shove, stumbling back slightly, his build was tall but so thin it was quite easy to knock him over. "Hey, hands off the merchandise, man!" He sputtered with a bright, mock defensiveness, totally ignoring the fact that he had started the shoving.