"Sorry, I guess I am bein' a little over familiar with an angel and all," McCree apologizes with a sheepish smile. His expression changes, though, when the angel mentions the whole champion angle.
The idea can't help by appeal to McCree. For someone who's done all the bad things he's done in his life, being picked by an actual angel to be their champion, to presumably stand for them and do good in the world, that's very, very gratifying. But that wicked-deeds-doing part of him points out that this gal (are they a gal? They surely do look like it to McCree) is probably not a literal angel, and he has no idea what being her 'champion' actual entails. It might not being doing good at all.
"Well, now, that's mighty flatterin'," he says cautiously. "And it sounds like you're needin' some help from me. But what does this whole 'champion' thing mean? What is it exactly you're wantin' from me?"
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The idea can't help by appeal to McCree. For someone who's done all the bad things he's done in his life, being picked by an actual angel to be their champion, to presumably stand for them and do good in the world, that's very, very gratifying. But that wicked-deeds-doing part of him points out that this gal (are they a gal? They surely do look like it to McCree) is probably not a literal angel, and he has no idea what being her 'champion' actual entails. It might not being doing good at all.
"Well, now, that's mighty flatterin'," he says cautiously. "And it sounds like you're needin' some help from me. But what does this whole 'champion' thing mean? What is it exactly you're wantin' from me?"