The yuppies in attendance gave little fanfare in response to the devastation unleashed upon the interloper’s groin, a few gasps and snorted, singular chuckles to be sure but nothing as gratuitous as even three back to back “ho-ho-hums”, but in the corners of Billuh’s vision his artificial mind could make out their otherwise disinterested scowls molding instantly to something that could best be described as crocodile smiles, all pretty white teeth nearly from ear to ear --, they were loving this, even if they in their prim and proper code of ethics were not permitted to whoop and holler about it as would your typical gnome or humans possessed of less uppity natures. A regular laid to waste in a single blow at the hands of a twenty inch tall Gnome, and in spectacular, literally ball busting fashion. Some made remarks along the lines of, “how droll, that one’s something of a synthetic lifeform, poor taste that,” or something of the like, Billuh would see how droll he seemed to them once he insulted their mothers and challenged them to the Old and Venerable Gnomish Tradition of Arm Wrastlin’. That would have to wait, however, until after he finished with the giant standing in front of him. 

Well, hobbling in front of him. Even bent down as far as is reasonably possible while still allowing for viable movement, his challenger was at least twice the Gnome’s height, and coming at him. Not quickly, however. Was he waiting to see what Billuh would do? Measuring him up, plotting some trickery to catch him at an awkward angle and take advantage of his predicament? With his artificial mind buzzing about considering just what Gonad was up to Billuh decided on some robotic subconscious level to hell with strategy and considered othah Billuh Bob. He wasn’t one for tactics, or even skill really, and had always won through sheer size, determination, and simple passion for clobbering his fellow gnome. His challenger may not be a gnome, and Billuh certainly was not the larger opponent in this case, but that wasn’t going to stop him from pummeling the giant into submission. Besides, if something went wrong he could always rely on tactics to get him out of it then, right? “Wrong, no wait, stop you fool,” his synthetic mind spouted off in its flat robotic monotone as Billuh got to his knees, now totally committed to using the power of sheer brashness and physical might to try and tackle this far larger and more physically adept opponent. For some reason. 

Clutching at one of the legs of his downed opponent, more with his wrists and forearms than with hands and fingers alone given the sheer size, relatively speaking, of his opponents roided out thighs, knees and shins, Billuh pivoted, plumes of red mist pouring out from his flank, forearm and shoulder in the general direction of his opponent as he spun a full three sixty, taking Johnny Boy who was now moaning and crying out in some delirious shock induced near waking catatonia along with him, spinning him now in mid-air before shouting, “Billuh Bob Gnome!!” and releasing him at speed toward his opponent’s knees. Why Billuh Bob had straight up Mario 64 spun John Cena and thrown him toward Gonad who can say, but unless he had done something to interrupt Billuh as he was spinning, which given his steam powered centrifugal momentum had only taking a moment or two, he now had the full two hundred fifty pounds of Johnny Boy’s weight hurling toward his knees, minus whatever the chunk of pelvis and testicle weighed of course. He had obviously exposed his flank and back, if for only a moment, and done something fairly nutty and against the advisement of the more logical artificial mind programmed into him through some mix of science and magic, but he was Billuh Bob Gnome and some machine telling him that this was a potentially dangerous and mildly stupid course of action wasn’t going to stop him from trying.