[Tuco manages a smile, even if (as predicted) the pizza sat in his mouth feels like it's searing a hole through his tongue. In an effort to avoid drawing attention to the fact, he lifts his glass like he's making a toast.]
You and me, it sounds like we have the same kind of luck. [He takes a second gulp and quickly sets the glass down again, scrubbing his mouth. He's giving Niko a funny kind of look. An evaluating look, to be precise.]
no subject
You and me, it sounds like we have the same kind of luck. [He takes a second gulp and quickly sets the glass down again, scrubbing his mouth. He's giving Niko a funny kind of look. An evaluating look, to be precise.]