There's a dance of expressions across Miguel's face. First the expected shock, then the automatic irritation of assuming he is being fucked with, eroded away when the quieter and more thoughtful part of his brain reminds him that in the multiverse, anything was possible. So, of course. Why not the Easter Bunny?

"Por supuesto no es un chiste..." he grumbles to himself, deciding to settle on that answer being too ridiculous to be a lie. "It's only because we're quite literally staying in Santa's Workshop that I know you're telling the truth." he adds wearily. The absurdism is what seems to be making him grumpy - albeit in a harmless way. It's something he's learned to roll with after dropping through enough alternate worlds with internal logic that made no sense to him.

"I want to ask how on Earth you managed that. But maybe when we find where the yeti store the rum."

((* Of course it's not a joke. ))