[He's watching you, old man. This couch is comfortable. These blankets are warm and delightful. He has two pillows, albeit of the smaller throw pillow type.]

[He's not glaring, exactly, but he does pointedly lift an eyebrow at Beckett's appraisal.]

You want to tell me the merit of your opinion on my ass-lack? Have you got credentials? I want to see certificates and signatures, Beckett; I want to know what the Better Booty Bureau thinks of your skills. Am I wasting my time getting an ass-essment under your ancient gaze, or should I take the smooth, uncleft expanse of my backside to more supple hands? These things take delicate handling and an eye for detail, and I ain't convinced when your judgment is this cold and lifeless. Passion is the lifeblood of these things, Beckett. I want a review with the kind of meat I can sink my teeth into.

[There's your effort.]