Between the additional ramble and the expression and then the curse, Soldat is guessing something is up. "I don't know why we're all the same-- might be no one does, but I can guarantee asking the murder machine with probably less than a quarter of their memories isn't likely to get you an answer." They look back at the bumper car, spinning it slowly to face Rosinante more fully and maybe aim it to come bump, as is their intended purpose. Gently, though. They don't want to dislodge Rosi again. "I also don't know why you're talking so much, either. But I don't mind if you don't."