"That's gonna be as soon as we deal with this," he says, his mind obviously focused on the quick -- but hopefully masterfully handled -- disposal of the body. He does note the way Jesse's shoulder is bleeding, shakes his head in frustration as Jesse pokes at the bullet hole; "Stop touching it," he says. It's certainly not a suggestion, more an order, but he's not in the mood for giving casual suggestions at the moment. Things need to get done.

"Yeah," he says, looking from the dead man on the ground to the car and then back to Jesse, "You got any place in mind?" Already he's started towards the dead guy, intending to rifle through his pockets for the car keys. If all else fails, there are other ways to start a car, but why bother with that when it's likely the guy's got his keys on him?

The body and the implications of the body doesn't seem to bother him; the way he goes through the man's pockets is as he would do any other chore, bored and slightly detached. He takes the man's wallet, then his keys, then his cigarettes for good measure.

"You think you can help lift him with your shoulder like that?" He knows dead weight is heavy, he's not stupid, but he doesn't know if Jesse's going to be in any mood to lift the guy into the car, even once they get it unlocked and the problem of where to dump the body figured out.