Phalanx pauses... follows Robin's gaze... looks over the assorted clutter on the table... and spots a fork! Aha!

"Use a fork. Fork. Please."

With this puzzle figured out, Phalanx reaches over and retrieves one of the utensils. A sock falls out of their blanket shroud. And then they return to the plate that Robin is still holding--again, moving to take a stab of something that looks edible instead of taking the whole darn plate.