Eridan's nose rankled, now turning away from the case entirely. That wince was good, the knowledge that the next few weeks for Eddie would be mildly torturous even if he stopped now (he wouldn't), but that sass - that clever verbal sidestep, that had him walking back over, thoughtfully rolling his tongue over the edge of his teeth. Nothing he hadn't weathered before, really; as far as verbal cuts go, this one wasn't the first, and it wasn't nearly the deepest. He could deal.

But in this exact window of time, he didn't have to.

"Yeah, not really," Eridan agreed, leaning back on his heels. A beat, maybe two, and then he was hooking the toe of his shoe between Eddie's knees, under the chair's seat, and neatly toppling it onto its back. This chair being metal, and Eddie's bonds being so tight, this would undoubtedly be at least moderately painful, but probably not quite as much as the heel digging into the dip of his throat.

"You remember you had your chance, and you had to fuckin' get clewer on me." Punctuated by removing his shoe from Eddie's throat, laying a hard kick into his side instead. A couple after that too, actually, and then a good stomp in the diaphragm that he visibly enjoyed far, far too much. "You did all this to yourself. Can't ewen brainwash somebody right. You really think a half hour an' a little ginger's gonna break me?"

Finally, he stepped back. Leering still, but giving them both a momentary breather.

"I set aside a whole night for you."