"Everyone's dead except for a presumed mole who sold them all out and he knows it ain't him." A careful, quick-timed glance. "Who wouldn't be a little rough?"

But -- truthfully -- the rough-housing did indeed make her feel...uncomfortable. Like her skin was unpleasantly too tight. She shifted, eating more popcorn and drowning her discomfort in coffee.

And a rant: "See, this is where it starts falling apart for me. What kind of villain goes so far as getting a balaclava and then sewing up all the damn holes? Not a very efficient use of evil time."