Idris didn't do much to stifle the near snicker of amusement that escaped when the woman turned around to point a french fry at him, as if that would ward him off somehow. True, he wasn't a huge fan of fast food, but it'd take more than a potato rapier to get him to back down from such a situation that clearly was only going to get better as it went along.
"Oh, only that if you're intending on eating those later, I don't think you should; who knows what sort of people have been sitting in that chair, you know?" He shrugged, feeling as if he was offering only but the most sensible of explanations. Although really, in quick retrospect, what sort of person that created greasy abstract art in an apartment building's lobby would be in the right sort of mind to listen to reason?
Her second question caused him to laugh outright, and he shifted the convenience store bag he happened to be holding in one hand. What could he say, really? The day had been long, so he'd stopped by a 7-11 on the way home and picked up a box of Wheat Thins--a much healthier alternative than other snacks.
"Nah, I don't. But," he stated, his tone light as he motioned to the plastic bag, "I do have Wheat Thins. Think those would work better? For your..." Idris wasn't necessarily one to be at a total loss of words, but for the life of him he couldn't tell just what it was she was making. "...sculpture."