He looks at his controller. But, unfortunately, Hank is not the most coordinated of souls, and the rat is very very fast for a tubby kitty such as him. So his efforts are quickly squashed. Connor can nimbly handle two little strange people at once. Hank can barely manage one.

"It works if you switch it out the full pot for the empty pot. Remember, I've not played games since I was ten. Take it easy on me."

He is a little bit of a doofus, doing his best. He's even sticking the tip of his tongue out between those notched teeth and wrinkling his nose in concentration sometimes.

"I don't think they're meant to be smart, though." They're meant to be smart. And Hank's fingers are just not smart at this particular task. He's not rage-quitting, though. He's sticking with it.