"Why aren't you dragging around a stuffed cockroach or something?" Jason raises and eyebrow, thinking that a few 'candids' of Wednesday looking like an ethereal and terrifying child, plushie and all, might do her some favors on the media. Maybe a stuffed cockroach isn't the worst idea.

Any other time he might have enough stubbornness to get into a contest of wills with a ten year-old. For a moment, he locks eyes with Wednesday, and then seems to just give up. There's nothing obvious on his face, but something perceptibly changes, a sort of weakness or just exhaustion.

"Fine. You aren't the one who needs the guilt trip anyway." He gestures at the couch and bats the monkey's paws away from where it's trying to groom his hair. "Take a seat."

He sighs and nods at the videographer. "You go home. Get me those edits by Monday or I'll hold good on those timeliness clauses."