Lucas' eyes widen, and then he flinches. "Um, oh." Real smooth, Lucas. Scratching the back of his head, he adds, "It's...cute?"

Still in conversation recovery mode, he hunches forward a bit, letting his arms drop off the table and clasping his fingers in his lap. It's like he's simultaneously leaning in and slightly uncomfortable. This is pretty standard for Lucas Kowalski. "What about you? Maximize your luck for the next three hundred sixty-five days? Or contract a zombie virus?"