[ No, he does not want to gut the fish, so it's somewhat a relief when she phrases that question with so much incredulity, even if he should be somewhat insulted. He's sorta used to this reaction, anyway, so he'll just roll with it — even if that means holding the fish. Not an enviable job, but one he'd rather do than the gutting. ]

Noooooooo, ma'am. I-I'm not the knives guy, anyway... [ He's the gun guy, and that's not exactly helpful in this situation. Still nervous, he continues to blather: ] Y-you should see my bud, Iggy. He's basically a knives wizard. He'd have this fish dissected in no time...

[ And fried up if this was fish worth eating — but he's getting distracted now. He refocuses, and holds out the fish, belly-side up, for her to slice into. ]

Take 'er away.