So extra butter and cinnamon it was... [At least the cinnamon looks brownish. Powdered scotch, except not in literally any way. Well. He doesn't want to torment himself loitering in the room with the smell and the decision not to try any yet, unlike how he could order his own batch of takeout. He shifts to straighten, and hesitates a moment.]

So, uh... Keep paying attention to yourself! If you feel a weird need to feed people weird things... Let me know! Maybe by carving the words in the top of the pie, if it's too hard to say. [That was completely not how his mindset had worked, back then, but it's nice to leave the idea that maybe he just hadn't tried warning the right way.]