Elvis can't help letting out a laugh at that, a faint, dry sound, more for the absurdity of the comment than anything else. Cookies can't help anything, he knows that with even more certainty than he knows most things; they aren't going to make him feel better and they sure as hell aren't going to bring Anabelle back. There's something about the way she says it, though — maybe thoughts of Anabelle herself, whom he can easily imagine saying something similar — that makes him disinclined to point that out. Instead, he shrugs. "Do you have any, or are you suggestin' we get some?"