Dave laughs a touch mockingly at Haga's assertion that he doesn't care. He'd go into all the reasons why that clearly isn't the case - why Haga's declaration otherwise is downright comical - but sometimes, laughter is the only answer one needs. Besides; that last part of Haga's little tirade is far more deserving of commenting on.

The corner of Dave's lips turn upward just a twinge, settling into the mildest of smirks - the kind one has to sort of squint at to really see. "Sure, I know how to say something nice."

His words come out smooth and calm, a slow lilt to them to emphasize just how relaxed and in-his-element he is. He can't remember the last time he got to rile someone up like this, and part of him wonders how a certain coworker back home would feel if she could see him right now. Knowing her, she'd probably make a wisecrack about how he's much more fun like this and that maybe, if he let this side of himself show more often, she might actually have something resembling a tiny degree of respect for him.

That's neither here nor there, though.

"But if a dog wants a bone, he's typically gotta do something to earn it."