I don't know about you, but I severely doubt anything that's happened to any of us who've found our way trapped in this stupid wiggler-tale mudball of a planet to be anything even remotely resembling something as simple and normal as "life".

[He watches Jack as he digs into the stack of flapjacks, already kind of wanting more. But the stove's already been turned off, and he's not pathetic enough to beg for more food. Mostly.]

[Instead, his tail flicks, and he scratches at his neck as he looks at the other objects still on the table.]

...Do you have any more of those peaches?