[Dave doesn't reply immediately. He just lets the cashier ring him up and bag his items, and as he finishes paying and starts to walk away, it seems like he may have just learned to let Gary's quip roll off his back.

Then, as he approaches the exit to the store, he suddenly wheels around. With the flattest expression on his face and a tone to match, he begins to talk.]

Yeah, you caught me. I've got the unironic hots for you and just can't spit it out. This is step one in my prolonged, complex, and meticulously thought-out courtship ritual. When I hand this shit-- [he rattles his bag a little] --over to you and you nonchalantly bring it back to your place to eat for later, one day you'll be sitting there just chewing on a macaron and suddenly your teeth'll hit something hard and it'll turn out I used my powers to poof like, a goddamn wedding ring in there, so what I'm saying is make sure you don't end up, like, scarfing those motherfuckers down in one bite or anything. My plan basically hinges on you being a thoughtful chewer, 'cause it'd put a real damper on things if you ended up inhaling it or choking on it or even just straight up swallowing it. Are we done here.