Wrench watches as the wordplay transforms Chell’s response. Even though it’s his height most people notice first — the thing virtually everyone mentions, if they gather the gumption to acknowledge him at all — he smirks. This time he doesn’t even try to hide it. The sound is a lot clearer, and a lot more appreciative. The light reaches his eyes even when no smile crosses his lips, and for a moment he doesn’t look quite as pissed off as he usually does.

My partner is here too, he taps the tip of two outstretched fingers against their counterparts on his other hand, obfuscating the nature of the relationship. So there are two of them here, but what that means is left a mystery. Wrench doesn’t give the other one a name, just points to the side, an ungendered acknowledgement of the aforementioned. They wanted to leave as fast as we could, but I said no. It seems smarter to play along while we can. Try to figure out what’s going on.