"I'm game for leaving." Granted, he's also game for parting from her company, but he manages not to say that out loud. "I'm not going to play a stupid flamingo game just because my dream dumps me here. Or however we got here."

It doesn't feel like a dream, really, but it also doesn't feel sensible enough for reality. Reality's weird, but not like that.

He chucks his bird to the side - it gives a displeased squawk - and tears a petal off the drippy flower. After a moment, he licks it.