'Alriiight, then let's do this shit!' Deprave yelled, grabbing the alcoholic by the legs and yanking him up to rest his legs over his shoulders... and then it occurred to him that he'd probably fall off, being that he'd blown a hole through his groin and all. But he had a quick fix for that: pulling out two of his old chains from the box they came in, he flung them over a shoulder each, roughly tying them together under his arms to hold the man on his back in place, then grabbed both his AA12s from their holsters and tossed them upward, trusting that the crazy person would actually catch the weapons and not drop them like a total idiot.

And then the knight screamed something about "this team being the greatest" or whatever- and with Deprave in it, it probably was- before blowing a goddamn hole in the goddamn wall. Deprave blinked at the sight, only to begin laughing his head off at the carnage. 'Bloody fucking hell, Johnny,' he exclaimed, 'who knew you had it in you?! You dumb bastard.' Grinning wildly now, and even licking his lips a little, Deprave stepped through the hole, eyeing up the armless demon through the hole as if he weren't a moderate threat. 'So, you little fuckboy,' he stated to the clearly-trying-too-hard creature, 'which would you prefer: getting shot a bunch of times, or getting your legs pulled clean off? Here's a tip: removing your legs will be [i]more fun.[/i]'