Eames snorts a laugh, looking down at the back of Ghoul's head and then to the bartender-- signalling for a refill. He'd honestly rather slit his own throat than speak to Redbright right now, but regardless. Might as well find some camaraderie with one of his fellow undesirables, right?

"I think you'll need more liquor for that," he makes a thoughtful noise, fingers drumming on the wood as he waits for his drink, "vodka maybe? Might help melt the varnish."