A farm in any version of Mr. Dickerson’s future is far less likely than Wysteria learning to love a goat for its practical applications.

But he's put the idea out there with flat affect, little in the way of distinction between deadpan shade and dry honesty. There’d be more cause to believe in potential for the latter if he didn’t arch his brow when he says:

“It depends on what you’d like me to tell you.”