With the gigantic Mayancatec moving to another room, Grog felt his itch grow. So many prisoners rioting and not a single one of them had buckshot up the ass. Nervously stroking the trigger guards, he was half-tempted to just start spraying at anything remotely hostile. Yet again, however, his thought train came to a halt as he bore witness to Old N, the mushroom crab lying flat on the ground. For something to knock the seafood equivalent of a battering ram, he had to be one tough honkey. Oh, and look at that! A couple of guards were still-

 A chunk of table hit him square in the face. Well, it was just swung back by Kali-Ma dude and thrown, and his makeshift protection gear spared him from any serious harm, but a bloody nose and lip were unavoidable. Springing his head back up and shaking off the momentary daze, he had just managed to gurgle a confused "Hey, watch it you [b]fuck[/b]!" Before a couple of very interesting (and very unharmed) characters waltzed into the immediate area. One of them seemed like a typical security guard, while the other... The other looked like the big cheese. The head honcho. The stranger dange- Wait that last one made no sense.

 Whatever the case, the masked marauder quickly sprang back into action and exclaimed, somewhat taken aback: " Uh... 'Prave. We've got company!"

 Not caring whether or not the massive tribesguy was ready to start wrecking shit or not, Grog hung one shotgun from his utility belt, briefly, and began patting his numerous pouches for any leftover tricks. What he found was a triplet of his trusty nailbombs. Ah, a classic, those were. Little golf ball sized instruments of death they were, covered by nails and anything similar, and filled with whatever most explosive Grog had at the time. But, what was that? A tiny little knickknack had eluded him. No bigger than a pinky finger, it was... A [i]Fucksville syringe[/i]. The single most potent (and only actually functional) combat drug he'd ever made. He wondered if he should give it to Deprave instead, but seeing bullets had bounced off him, a measly needle wouldn't even penetrate his eyeball. Whatever the case, Grog hastily unzipped his jacket and stuck the syringe through his shirt, and in to his chest.

  In a few heartbeats, the effects began to take place. His pupils widened, he could no longer feel the burning sensation on what remained of his pelvis, and his thoughts raced. Sped up. He was faster, more precise, and the world was slower. Also he felt his mouth begin to foam, but that was just a minor side-effect, right? His eyes darted between the seriously pissed off monster and the fleeing guard. The former caught Grog's attention a tad more. He leaned forward, and leering at the half-demon he rasped.

 [color=ed1c24][b]"Hey, hey. Hey you. I burned my dick off. And now I'm comin' for [i]yours[/i]."[/b][/color]