[Growltiger]

Growltigga, dazed, confused, battered and now right royally narked, pushes himself out from under Black Knygt whilst he is spraying stuff from his backside on Renegade.

"You nasty little American twerp" says the great cat. Armour doesn't stop me. He pulls out his Swiss Army Knife, pulls out the attachment for adamantine armour and whittles off the bottom portion of the suite whilst said foam deluge is still happening.

Snatching the red hot poker hand cannon from Renegage, Growltigga lines up on BK's under garments, dials the cannon to "Ultra Curry (with a hint of lime)" and attacks

"Frying tonight" GT yells...... as Black Kyght squeals like a stuck pig (well I guess he is really) and gets a taste of pure fire up his windward passage.........