In Wash's experience, shitty humor in the face of a horrifying situation usually means that, on some level, whoever's making the jokes is at least somewhat functional. It's when the humor breaks down and the screaming starts that the problems begin.

So, humor is good. Better to think about sushi than the fact that a mouth ringed with teeth opened up in the fleshy ground right where his foot had been moments ago. Mouth-creature can stay for all Wash cares - he doesn't have enough bullets or fucks to spare to take care of it.

"Forced veganism is looking really good right about now, huh," he comments, falling in step with Danny and accessing the tracker in his flight ring, which pulls up a small holographic screen with several blinking dots on a grid. "Looks like the portal's in that direction - with any luck, we'll reach it soon." On the one hand, soon could mean just about anything; on the other hand, it didn't look like they were the full ten miles away from the portal home. Small blessings.