"D'awwww! Aren't you sweet? My mother always liked you." In a high-pitched and motherly tone, he took on a British accent as well even if his mother wasn't British. He just liked, when employing high-pitched tones, to make them British. "Oh! That Pool! Such a good boy 'e is!"
The castle came into view, and as it did, in his heart of childish hearts there rang out a happy laughter, skip, and jump. However, in reality, he'd only cleared his throat as he turned into the parking lot and said merely, though hemmed with delight: "We're totally having lunch at Medieval Times." And laughed for the voicing of the thought of it.
Thankfully, fate had afforded them an easily found space, and he slid in expertly between two other moderately fancy cars. He didn't like parking next to jalopies. As touched on earlier, haters gunna hate. Excitedly, he grinned widely at his passenger, bearing his even rows of pearly whites, and growled what could be distinguished as a "Yes!"
Unbuckled and sooooo ready, he hurriedly exited the car.