[@MelonHead]

[i]The Magna Pater would have only rushed fully for freedom had the optics been destroyed. It could tell that wasn't the case. The blasted thing was still mostly in one piece. It knew now that it could not best this foe in terms of force. It already had stuck its head and shoulders through the gap in the arm to escape, and its tail had by now flicked up above the mech's back. Higan was a quick thinker, but Slimy was leagues beyond the concept of quick thought. It stopped dead, knowing that darting down the mech's front in full visibility was suicide. A bit too late though, as it had been in a hurry. It was pulled partially forwards by the arm, but stuck fast to the head of the mech with its potent adhesive slime. With a sucking noise, its slippery head would slurp free of the tightening gap in the arm, like a wedding ring being pulled off a soapy finger. Strong though the mech was, its flexibility was poor and the sleek metal could scarcely hope to contain the beast. At least, not entirely. Slimy did not escape unscathed. A large flap of its skin had been torn off from the pressure, leaving nearly the entire right half of its gaunt skull exposed. Its black, rat-like eyes bulged with veiny malignance, teeth grinding as the naked fibers of its jaw muscles twitched. Thick strings of maroon blood hung from its glistening jowls. Any longer and its head might have been crushed. In an instant, Higan smashed into the wall, the broad of it smacking into the monster's backside and cracking three of its thick ribs. Any lesser creature, perhaps a bear or a gorilla, might have even suffered a broken back or been knocked off. This one, though, was intent on having Higan be granted entry into the Guinness Book of World Records, for the feat of having the fuck-ugliest hat in existence.

The Magna Pater did not get knocked off, and it did not hesitate to slap its right paw right into the glass of the optics (both of them) a split second after they struck the wall, taking note of any preventive final moment measures the wily pilot might whip out to stop it. If it could not break them, then it would coat the glass in a layer of slime so dense, so sticky, so nasty, that not even Jay Leno's chin could scrape it off. It would slather that gunk on good and thick. It might even make the electro vision appear as a hazy blue booger fog. It could produce enough mucous to make a hagfish hurl and could slick itself free from its mount in an instant, but as it had followed through with its rock smash, so it wanted to follow through this. It kept its long tail coiling beneath itself, though for the entire length to do so, there would likely be not enough time.

The monster knew what it wanted, and if it could speak, it would lay claim to the following. [color=9e0b0f][u]It [b]hungered[/b] for this small victory, for this partial revenge. More than it hungered for those screaming brats and their mothers, those fat f*cking c***$ it loved taking days to finish. It wanted to see this one squirm and die, squirm forever. If the best it could manage was to screw up its enemy's sight for a day, then it would take it. It would take what it could get, because later, oh yes, later...[/u][/color] [/i]

[b]*The stream of thought gurgles into a poisonous torrent of unspeakable profanity.*[/b]