Heine was just about to rip the juice box's paper stupid-ass mascot into as many pieces as he could manage when it started moving away. Once again, his body seemed to fail him as his hand wasn't fast enough to crush the little shit before he made his escape. He turned, recognizing the box's savior immediately. Fuckin' traitor.

The man's words registered in a vague sort of way. Why he'd been sedated, he definitely knew that one. For biting one of the male nurses and breaking the other one's face. Yeah, that was probably it. Why did Badou have to talk so fast?

"Nothing," he insisted firmly, managing a rather painful one-finger-salute with said broken hand. Piece of shit body needed to get its fuckin' act together. "S'fine, see?"

He looked the other person over, managing to at least keep his eyes focused. What the hell did they want him to do? Stand up and dance? He looked a little quizzically from one to the other. It wasn't the first time the other had him meet new people. And despite the medication he cared about as much then as he did now. Though he did want to ask why the fuck Badou looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a wild toaster oven- They were probably in league with the juice boxes... - but all he could manage was a mostly coherent, "whadja do dipshiiiii...t?"