"Yeah, like the painter," Mike replied, almost seeming to smile for a moment; actually, both options were right, but it's not like Remy would know that.

Mike was perfectly sane. He was just completely unused to being human and completely unused to suddenly being thrust into social situation after another. The former turtle usually avoided people. Mike didn't like crowds, but he was controlling his emotions enough now that he wasn't focusing on that.

And then the man introduced himself, and dealing with crowds and people seemed like nothing. Gambit? Gambit? Mike did a double-take, and looked him over from head to toe. The hair, the Cajun accent. Mike even suspected that he knew what he was hiding behind those sunglasses.

This was all impossible.

Then again, Mike was back from the dead and was in the body of the human. Just because Gambit was only a comic book character in his world didn't mean that he didn't exist in some other version of earth. Don had mentioned something about there being a theoretical infinity number of universes or something like that.

Mike had to sit down at this realization, so he did, in the chair opposite of Remy. He wasn't quite ready to believe the man--who knew, maybe he was really nuts and was just a good cosplayer--but he was definitely interested now.

Finally, he managed to blank the surprised expression off his face, and nodded to Gambit's question. "Yeah, just got here. At least their pizza is good, but not as good as New York's."