[Despite his fear, Vincent can't help a little of the exasperation creeping into his voice when he responds.]

I don't have anything for you to toss out, I just got h--

[Yet any attempts at defiance melt away when the crazy sword guy begins stalking right up to him, and he realises he still has a cigarette crumbling away in his hand. Shit. He looks back at the stranger.]

It's, uh-- a cigarette! I can throw it away, but you need to let me go first! [His legs are shaking and he's sweating bullets. Please don't stab him.]