Pratt hates cigars, smoking them makes you look like a douchebag and he despises how soggy the ends get. But he needs his nicotine fix somehow and he hasn't been able to find cigarettes on board anywhere. So he's smoking a cigar and drinking Mountain Dew out of a bottle in a combination that would have anyone with even a bit of class beating him to death with a crystal candlestick.

He has noticed the person talking to a stuffed animal, but since he often talks to a hallucination he's in no position to say shit.

"Nothing, keep on keeping on." He shrugs, leaning his elbows on the table. "What are you doing anyway?"