"That's sort of how names work, where I come from. Discord, Spirit of Disharmony, Master of Chaos, Bringer of Bedlam -- you get it. But Discord it is."

As if to make his point, he snaps his fingers again. The person nearest them suddenly cries out in surprise, and if Sombra turns around, she might notice that the grocery bags they've been carrying is suddenly full of startled woodland creatures rabidly attempting to tear free of their package prisons.

While he spends a moment chuckling at her expense, he glances back down to Sombra, mollified slightly.

"Oh don't tell me -- you're not with those tightwads, are you? Say it ain't so."