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When his stance is squared, the choppa out of the tuckeroos and firm in hand, you give him one more beat, no more excuses, then drop into Form and scrabble for him.
Zargnag keeps defensive, holding back, his eyes trying to follow your weird way of moving: taking three steps for one step's distance, always heading for his voonerables.
His stance is wide: since you're low, near flat on the ground, he has to wait for you to stand still before tryna chop yer.
You give him that: you freeze right at his feet, half-raise off the floor like you're going to fly at him - HE CHOPPS! MISSES!! - then drop back down and under him, slashing both heels and, with a hup, driving nearly all of the stikkblade into his bugghole.
He can already twigg the conclusion: he's <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">gibbz</span>
>Toady Attack 89+10 VS SCRUBLOL 83
>HIT 29 Dmg
>= -2/27HP
>LOSER Attack 81 VS Toady 85+2
>WIFF
You're up his toppling body in one beat, your knees to his neck as he lands.
He's shouting in pain, but squeezes his voice shut when you yank his head back and show him <span class="mu-b">Daggy</span>.
The deddniss in your voice makes everything clear to him.
"<span class="mu-g">Toljer I wuz gonna ride yer. Narr, yez gotta sumn na moin. I'm jezt gunna take it ogay. Fanks Bichtitz, I'z knew yer wuddnt moind.</span>"
Then you start scalping him, and he starts bellowing, blood diarrhea still splurting from his arz.
None of his buttbuddies stop you. A few get up. Not to try to staunch the blood or save him or nuffin: YOUre now worth foitn, and the Gobbies bunched up behind you are starting to point and chatter like your win is their win.
They have to lay down a pecking order.</span>
