[ When Jesse was younger this was the sort of thing he fantasized about. Handcuffed to a hot chic — a bit rough around the edges, but that's cool — with no end in sight. Only she's a little more determined to get out of them than he is. (Later on, he'll realize with horror that he has to pee, which is when fantasyland comes crashing down on his rudely awoken head and he joins her in her enthusiasm.) But for right now— ]

Hey! Hey, nobody said anything about getting creative, man, okay. [ Jesse tugs on his wrist, and her wrist in tandem, trying to keep her out of arm's read of her weapons. ] The picks I can handle, alright, but if you're gonna start slingin' the like heavy artillery, I'm officially out. No me gusta, comprende?