There's a tiny part of Dave that protests the fact that he doesn't look like Bro. If only because for the longest time all he ever wanted was to be just like him. The urge has mostly ebbed away by now, but there's insecurity under his piddly jokes.

"Right, because all you bushy, grey and pointy jerks are so easy to differentiate. Don't even get me started on your ancestors and double-dog-dancestors. My puppies here are special." He jibes right back, rubbing the baby abs on his stomach through his shirt in a way that could be conveyed as proud. "I dunno. Does cool-fruity-moobeast liquid sound familiar? It's sort of like that, but better." He nods knowingly, clearly already leading her toward the alleged smoothie place.