"Oh, good," she grumbles, "I'm gonna get murdered by a feminist."

Still, she does what he says, and doesn't reach for her gun and make an issue of it. There goes her admittedly vain hope of him taking the car and leaving her alone, though. Maybe she could bargain?

With her head stuck under the steering wheel, playing with wires, there's not much she can do but talk. "You know," she says, "I'll give you the car. You can take it and go."