"That's what you get for thinking. You're a guy. You'll just end up hurting yourself, if any." 😉 My fingers keep moving to an open spot, darting in and out, evading your hands as best I can.
"Oh, that's no fun. I think I have something to fix that problem." Keeps poking and tickling with one hand, while I retrieve something from my back pocket with the other. "Here. These should fit nicely; dontcha' think?" I try to grab a hold of one of your hands, so I can cuff it.