[Jason smirks, dropping onto the floor with his back to his bed, taking another piece of brownie for himself.]

What? Like you were busy recovering from the most terrifying two weeks of fighting for your life? Dealing with a roommate who keeps coming back covered in blood or waking up popping sparks? That's hardly distracting.

[His tone of voice indicates he's clearly joking.]

Wait...did you mean who made the brownies? Because that was who I had to get a gift for.

[He peers back at the plate and then locates a slip of paper.]

Guess these were made by Quentin.