"Report you for..." Syrlya blinks slowly, and then snorts and bites his lip to stifle a stronger laugh. There's unmistakable amusement in his grin, however. This guy sure takes his job seriously, which isn't a bad thing at all. But in a place like the carnival...

He waves a hand dismissively. "I cannot think of anyone who would care to have this reported to them in the first place."

Not the least because there isn't actually a head of the kitchen right now, and the Ringmaster surely won't want to hear it. "What was for lunch?"