It's a hut. Actually a hut. Mark knows that Eduardo hasn't always lived the traditional Ivy League life, that the Saverins are much more self-made than the Winklevii have been in recent generations, but still, one doesn't exactly expect anyone able to pay for university to live in a hut of wood and bamboo. Fortunately, it's not the lack of material goods and luxuries that Mark minds, so all he gives the hut is a skeptical glance before he turns back and belatedly processes what Eduardo has to say. In the yard is...

A brow quirks.

"Your chicken," Mark repeats, brows furrowing in disbelief. It's a stupid thing, the matter of the chicken, one that Eduardo's always taken far more seriously than he should. (PETA will call just about anything a violation of animal rights, provided the animal's cute enough.) "Don't tell me you actually felt bad about the Phoenix's mascot. It's a chicken, it won't even remember the cruelty an hour later, a lot of commercial chicken feed actually uses chicken in it, like a fowl soylent green."