Lester doesn't take kindly to his tone, but takes a seat on the far end of the couch where he can manage to find a spot. If they're going to be there for a while, best to be comfortable if he can. He's used to pretty much any variation of the New York accents by now, so he's not letting the huge creature piss in his cheerios. Like hell is he sharing shit about himself or his life.

"If I had a knife from that other room, I'd put you out of your misery so getting out of here wouldn't be an issue for you." he mumbles, crossing his legs and stretching his arms out over the back of the couch casually. Whoever put them up to this couldn't possibly keep them here forever.