Trevor narrows his eyes at this guy. Squints a little. He was expecting the other punk to tuck his tail between his legs, but this one? Smells like a smarmy bastard. One with a nice face, at least. Nice body, hopefully. Trevor won't mind shouting at it.

"A tantrum. Oh, I can show you a tantrum, sweetheart. That was a mild fucking complaint." He wags his finger at Eames like he's telling him some revelation.