Leandro just smirked in return. He considered the doctor as he was still to let him work, absorbing the accent that he just now finally thought he could place. Maybe. He hadn't traveled much, but it didn't sound like it came from anywhere near California. Something southeast, maybe?
"What about you, then? If you're going to try to rehab me, I think I could stand to ask something or another about you. And what it's gonna take to patch me up." He could resist no longer, and while Cal seemed intent on holding his attention, he had to add in one last joke. "Because you know, if it cuts into my soap opera time we might have to rethink."
The young man squint an eye to say that no, he did not really watch soap operas. Well, maybe a Mexican soap opera, but that was more out of curiosity for the heritage he knew so little about than to watch a soap opera. There was no flinch at the needle, and Leandro even looked down at it somewhat lazily. With the piercings and tattoos, yes, he had grown a fair bit desensitized. He'd spent hours holding still in a parlor chair.
"Huh. Seriously? Cool story, bro. Are you sure that spider wasn't carrying the Spiderman gene? And now this guy has like Spiderman legs. When they were changing his bedpans they should have checked if he could shoot webs." And there he went again. Nothing lasted forever.