"I think different rules apply if humour is involved." Not that he could manage to lie convincingly, even if he was making a joke. There was a reason he wasn't a poker player.
"I'm good," he assured in the face of her skepticism. "But no lifting Buicks, I promise. I've had about as much as I can stand of disappointed looks from him the last few days not to want any more." He hadn't heard of either theory, but he admittedly liked the simplicity behind it. Then again, he generally judged that kind of thing based on the people around him, rather than on himself.
"I hadn't. But I can see how you might be low on forks right now." This had all been going on for longer than any of them should have had to handle. He stepped into the elevator with her, the doors closing behind him. "And I'm more than happy to help out where ever you need me."