"Alright, alright. Get out of the way." She pushes up her sleeves, wipes her hands off on her jeans (not like they're terribly clean, but whatever) and then sets her hands along the weird, slippery texture of the fish filet in search of the bones. "Ow," she grumbles as the tip of one pokes her fingers, though after some haranguing and generally butchering the surface of the meat, she manages to pick the bone out.

It's slow going and she can't guarantee that she gets them all, but eventually she sets back on her heels and shakes the juice off her hands. "I think that's as good as it gets."