"Really dude?" is Wynonna's first response- she's had guys try the 'oh, you poor soiled dove' routine, and she's about to tell him it's not going to get her out of her pants, game or no game- but, oh- "oh, shit, you really mean that," she says, and laughs- sounding surprised and refreshed by him more than amused, and it's probably more appreciative than at his expense.

"Other than some distinct stretchmark-related anxiety, no. It was a job, not a curse," she assures him, shifting her gaze equally between him and her cards. "Well, okay, wear enough body glitter and it starts to feel like an inescapable curse, but I bet the princesses at Disneyland have that problem too."