It wasn't as if she would have known of any movies if he were some sort of actor no matter how famous, so she wasn't overly disappointed in his lack of stardom. Celebrity or not, he was the most handsome and sharpest-dressed man she had ever come across (even with a cat strangely perched on his shoulders), but admittedly the bar wasn't set all that high and it took way more than that to impress her. She had no more hesitation of putting a bullet between his eyes than anybody else's, if necessary.
Blood from the fresh gash in her forehead dripping down into her eye, Mabel wiped at it with the sleeve of her zombie sweatshirt. "Yes, no. No," she answered simply and then frowned, wondering if it would be wise to lie and claim there were other people with her, but she was certain enough of her advantage that she didn't need to. "Why'd you attack me?" she asked in return, voice sounding more politely curious than demanding, but the gun still pointed straight at him anything but polite.