[ He gives Finch a smile right back - admittedly, something flatter, a little not looking forward to this but willing to do it. Besides, he's got the knife now. Once Pinkman's got the knife in his hands, he flips it open, pries the lid off quick as nothing. It's clear he knows his way around a tool or two. ]

[ But the latter does get a bit of a snort out of him. ] That invitation is still very closed. So get off my dick, my friend, or you can open your own damn boxes. Bitch. [ It's without malice, and he finishes yanking the lid off the crate. ] Nothin' but soup and beans; how 'bout yours? [ He gestures his head over to his own crate, as if to invite Finch to paw through it. ]