Before Newt can even say anything, mostly because he's glaring at Coop out of pure exasperation--this must me how Chuck feels when they hang out--the elevator doors pry open and there it is. Freedom.

Freedom and Frank, whose ugly mug is staring at them both expectantly, like he wants to be paid extra for doing his job or something.

"He doesn't have a kid," Newt says quickly, stepping out of the elevator, which had totally and conveniently landed right at the level of what he recognizes to be the third floor. "Thanks, bud, we'll just get right out of your hair. Maybe take the steps this time, am I right?"

He grasps for Coop's sleeve then, tugging hard and giving his friend a little shove toward the staircase with Frank's raspy voice calling after them, "You're a real prick, Geiszler."

Not untrue, but that doesn't mean he has to stick around to be verbally abused. Even real pricks have feelings.