A cute eggtimer, and one not reminiscent of the white oval kind favored by psychopaths who kidnap peoples' moms. It ticks away, barely audible to human ears, the rings of its timer shifting bit by bit for the tough-skinned rice.

Bruce snorts. Yes, he can imagine Perry's face, barely not manifesting lasers out of his eyeballs powered by sheer incredulity. Aware of why Clark Kent calling in sick is absurd, and at the same time aware of being unable to refuse to request. Everyone is allowed sick days, and as a CEO who once spent months in proverbial wrestling matches with his own board over giving his entry level employees any at all, he is intimately familiar with all the ins and outs.

"In the aftermath, it hasn't been all that different from a dissociative episode."

Normal things to say.