He can't help but make a face at that, remembering when he'd been unceremoniously shoved in here and told to impress them. Sam'd decided back then that playing along was probably his best bet, and that hasn't changed yet, but it doesn't make him any happier.
"The people who can send us stuff in the arena, right. I'm guessing they're happy as long as we're putting on a good show?"
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"The people who can send us stuff in the arena, right. I'm guessing they're happy as long as we're putting on a good show?"