"It's all right," David says politely, less sincerely than as an automatic conversational filler in the face of 'that sucks.' "I'm sure I'll get it fixed one way or another." Besides, aside from the generalized shock factor, it hasn't really been more than a slight nuisance so far. Given that he hadn't really had any plans for the day, he hadn't had any plans for the day that involved his arms, either. While being precluded from making any is a bit annoying, his missing arms are the least of his concerns about the present situation.

The Pez brick is still lying at his feet. He wonders if he has an unlimited supply. It's possible. It's definitely not a vital organ, anyway--as far as he can tell he is some kind of plastic dispenser, and this is candy, so really, it's meant to come out. Still, you never know.

"If you'd like to give it back you can hold it up and push it back into my throat. It's really not necessary, though. I think I'm supposed to dispense these," he says politely, and then to demonstrate hinges his head all the way back to present the hole at the base of his neck, somewhat horrifically.