[she sighs; the sound is much shakier than she'd prefer. she tries backing away towards the door; there's not enough cover in here, and the small knife in her garter isn't much good against a gun, slime or no]

You don't want to shoot me, Joey. Dead people don't pay for much. And we had something, didn't we? Something good...

[jesus, this is how she's fallen, having to sweet-talk slime monsters. it's been a while, but she'll try to tap into her 6th sense, to try and sense if this is like... a spirit, or some bullshit imagination something or other, or what...]