Rhys' hands tighten on the handle of the mop though he doesn't know why. He's never had any sort of combat training because he hadn't thought it necessary. He pretty much thought he'd rise to the top of the Hyperion food chain and then have an army to do his bidding.

Vasquez had messed all that up and now Rhys was here, wondering if he wished hard enough, would he be able to suddenly know some sort of martial art that utilized a mop. Maybe the fact that Handsome Jack was currently residing in his head would give him an edge.

As if Jack could hear him (which he could), Rhys heard a hollow, hysterical laugh in his head. He had to resist the urge to smack his ear to get it to stop.

Rhys is pretty proud of himself for not immediately trying to retreat though especially when whoever this is seems to just...lift the water away from his shoe. He feels a mixture of fear and a sudden need to make nice with this person.

"I'm not a pup," Rhys says, trying to sound steady, tough. "And last I checked, mopping someone's shoes, which I'm not saying I did, wasn't a crime worthy of being...whatever you were just threatening to do to me. I'm pretty sure I have rights, even here! Even while I'm holding a mop."