[General Woundwort]

The mongooses stare in confusion as the Woundwort they attack fades into nothingness.

"Oh, come on, Boss, you didn't think I'd leave myself open to that sort of treatment, did you? Electroncs, schmectronics. Quantum-level technology, that's the ticket."

From the rear ranks, a quantum shielded Woundwort reappears, picks up a barstool and starts racking up a score of mongooses.

WHACK
"One!"
WHACK
"Two!"

"Hey RD! Two already! There's plenty enough for the both of us, may the best score win!"

WHACK
"Three!"

(and, well, you get the idea...)