I slide to trip his feet, leaving the driver's seat wide open. To this, he leaps over me and takes his place as the pilot of the gerbil-mech-hybrid again.
I scramble to a sitting position and hold on tight. It's then that I realize his oversight:
CEREBELLE RAGSDILL: HEY, GENIUS!!! WHY'RE YOU DRIVING THIS THING IF I'M ALREADY ON IT?!
MR. MAXPROFIT: THAT'S THE THING, DARLING.
MR. MAXPROFIT: YOU WON'T BE.
Suddenly the steel panel I'm sat atop bounces up in a spring-loaded act of ejection, sending me catapulting back onto the stage. It takes me a while to gather my senses.
I look up to Hamzilla, now stalling. 'Maxilla' has a defiant look of victory to him, even for how weathered and tethered this fight has left him. It makes him look more deranged. He could very well just charge forward and win this battle, but no. He halts. I can only wonder what he has in mind.
MR. MAXPROFIT: BOO-HOO. YOU'VE FALLEN OFF. AGAIN.
MR. MAXPROFIT: HOW'S THE BITTER TASTE OF DEFEAT TREATIN' YA?
MR. MAXPROFIT: AND~ IT'S NOT GOING IN YOUR MEMOIR.
CEREBELLE RAGSDILL: Are you dumb? I haven't lost! I'm still here, see?
He pauses. A grim smile on his face.
He folds his hands under his chin smugly.
MR. MAXPROFIT: Oh, Clarabelle, Clarabelle, Clarabelle.
MR. MAXPROFIT: You've already been fighting a losing battle.
MR. MAXPROFIT: SO WHAT HURT COULD IT DO TO DRAW THIS OUT MORE?!
As his laughter and the wildness of the crowd overpower each other, I hear something in the area click.
Then, the ground once again begins trembling.
I gaze at the source of the noise, and see a part of the battle floor begin to move. Not just move, but rotate.