"Maybe I'm becoming a monster...Who eats good food fairies. If they're really so abundant here, then I'll be well-fed won't I?"
Crossing his arms, Gordin resorts to the much simpler option of sticking his tongue out.

What an example of maturity. He's not overly bothered, though; no one's really paying them too much mind now, and he's having too much fun to care at any rate.

"Gods, that's cruel; what about harmless or good monsters who are really, really old? It must be annoying though, having to carry everyone because you're so strong."
Raising his eyebrows, Gordin shrugs altogether too casually. "It seems only fair that perhaps a monster carry you for once?"

Oh gods is he really offering a piggyback. Brother placebo procedure complete; there is no escape.