"Ah, that's much better. Don't have a hundred tons of bullshit sitting on my back. No sand in my face. Love it." He takes a deep breath and stretches, trying to loosen some of his muscles so that bruises he gets later won't be the size of melons, his muscles sounding like tanned leather as they stretch. He opens his eyes and his ears twitch as he hears a faint, 'What.' Oh, so the pilot of that ship decided to show up, huh. Guess there's really no choice, considering the ship itself if now about 200 feet away, buried in the sand. Maxwell allows himself a small grin of satisfaction. Normally he doesn't get so much enjoyment out of ruining someone else's things, but not gonna lie, tossing that ship felt real good. He looks at LeeRoy, takes a step backward, and then makes a jump.

Now, this is no ordinary jump. Maxwell has legs that would make a Giant Redwood tree weep from the beauty. We're talking grade A treetrunks. These legs allow Maxwell, all thirty five HUNDRED pounds of him, to run at a speed of 100 miles an hour without stopping for at least 7 hours. So when I say that Maxwell jumps, its more appropriate to say he took off from the ground. With force. Jumping 100 feet is simple for Maxwell. So, he angles himself properly, and launches over to LeeRoy, cracking the ground where he lands with his massive weight. 

"So, is this your ship? It landed on me. It kind of hurt." He states is simply and matter of factly, as if just being slightly hurt by it was completely natural.