Vincent does do his best to take this thing very carefully, only partly because he can't see and doesn't want to do something stupid like drop it. He figured it would be heavy, but he's clearly surprised to learn just how heavy.

"Damn, dude...!" He readjusts his grip to carefully prop up something that weighs as much as an eight-year-old, "I knew this thing was big, but holy shit..."

But it's clear very quickly that Vincent is impressed. It's bizarre to be holding one of the few things that could kill him instantly if someone else was wielding it, and the thought (combined by how absolutely solid this thing feels) gets a morbid little chuckle out of him.

He'll slowly maneuver the thing so that he can position the stock against his shoulder, just to pretend even a little bit that he could ever shoot this thing with any competence. And then he lowers it with a wistful sigh, and makes to hand it back.

"Does make me miss havin' eyeballs," he says, as a compliment.