[Grimmjow lets out a quiet growl that could just be what passes for humming in agreement. He's still nice and relaxed, not-quite-crowding Ichigo as he watches this 'cooking' take place.]

Why're you goin' so slow? Just 'cause that thing can't fight back?

[It's all blade-work to him, but he wonder if it's not like the oil, that somehow because the blade is tiny there are different rules. Maybe it was too weak for faster speeds. He perched his chin on Ichigo's shoulder as he watched.]