The giant of light sighed at Blorb's inevitable overreaction. It was always like that, it seemed - first he offered a few wimpy slaps of meat, and then a massive wave of ingredients to either shield himself, launch at his foes, or as in this case both. Almost sad to consider, honestly. Admittedly, he imagined those meat tendrils and meat blasts might be somewhat more intimidating if he weren't clad in a suit of psychic energy, but when the Wet Towel could dodge them adroitly, it seemed like there was perhaps a mismatch in play.
Nonetheless, the answer to this issue was obvious. Rather than falling, Arete's wings expanded outward again, and he propelled himself skyward, scooping the Wet Towel up in one hand as he took them both up and over the wall of ingredients with a triumphant cry of 'The only one falling today is you, villain!' This in turn was followed with a swoop back down toward the fatty freak, an effort to get in range so they could strike him again with his free hand. Because honestly, why wouldn't he do that? If WT had any ideas of her own, he'd of course help her with her plans too, but against this ignoramus, there was hardly any thought needed.