Tuco opened his mouth, meaning to point out that a phrase was a phrase, and he didn't mean it literally—only to think better of it. There was a time and a place to argue semantics, and right now, with Belloq one step away from scrabbling across the floor, this was obviously not it.

Still, he was faced with a big question: was it really worth sticking around, or was this the time to make his silent getaway? His general reading of the situation was that Belloq was well and truly fucked... but then again, he'd always been an infuriating optimist when riches were concerned.

Breathing a heavy sigh out from his nose, he took a step forward and craned his neck, searching for signs of any unexpected movement past the boundaries of the bed. "Next time, try not to throw it so hard," he mumbled, helpful as ever.