He raised his bottle halfheartedly to the woman that greeted him. "Hey." An expressionless, uncaring tone to it all. It was a token gesture at most. Not that it truly matters or means anything.
Then the tension rose. Sweet, sweet tension. His gaze lingered on the proclaimed psychic then darted to Sam. He shrugged it off as he peered between the pair. "Heh, good one. Riiight, psychics. As much as I love the X-files and want to believe, the evidence just leans too heavily to the contrary. Think about all the fucked up experiments into creating psychics and 'expanding' human consciousness that happened: The Nazi experiments, the MK-Ultra and the KGB... None of them bore fruit." A blunt shrug again and a bit of a chuckle. "This isn't Shadow Moses and you ain't Psycho Mantis." He smiled to Ester, the widest shit eating grin ever to grace Earth's green earth. "It was a joke. An obvious joke."
In his best deadpan snark he stated plainly... "...And I have the devil on speed dial." A chuckle and a raising of his beer bottle. "To good health and shooting more vampires in the face!"