"...what kind of quirty op?" She is just. Going to run with this. Fuck it, it might be a real thing, and if it isn't she's not going to be a dick and say so. Instead she preps the ink and the stylus again, brushing her hair back and leaving a black smudge in it.

"And I forget how many legs they have." She glances at him subtly, gauging if he's inventing or not.