Snatching up the gun takes about five seconds of her reaction time before the whole joke sinks in and she stares at the kid, actually feeling embarrassingly like they pulled one over on her good, holy shit. Which, you know what? Mad props. Getting heeled in the foot assures her that Taako's getting a kick out of this too and restores her smugness - see, see, this kid is a riot. She elbows him back to convey that.

He's also correct that this only flew for as long as it did because Kittu isn't that wild of a name by itself. "Whatever, I stand by what I said - as far as totally not fake human names go, it's better than Greg," she says with an insolent grin that rivals Taako's. What a band of shady assholes they all are.

She cradles the gun lovingly in her arms and then up to her shoulder, pointing it into the distance with one eye screwed shut as if gauging its aim, then swivels around to point it in her brother's face. "Fuck off Taako, how do I know you're not just keeping all the really cool stuff people trade with for yourself? You already got that gross dripping tetanus infection waiting to happen. I deserve this."