Tuco was also staring, his face stuck in a rictus grin, eyes wide and owlish. For a moment, he was entirely unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Then, even when he could, his mind still refused to believe it. He wasn't being wilfully stupid, either; he knew he was staring at a Prop. His problem was more that he considered the pests a minor (if not fascinating) nuisance. That they would transform themselves into some priceless relic? He was—

He was laughing. From the sudden twist of his eyebrows, it seemed he'd surprised himself with the harsh, donkey-like bray, and yet that didn't stop him, either. He took a step back, shaking his head, even bringing his hand up to stifle the sound.

"Shit," he managed eventually, pitch wavering like he'd lost control of his vocal cords. "Tell me—" He stopped and forced himself to stare at the ceiling. With a deep, steadying breath, he tried again. "Tell me the real thing is still in the kuh—"