Harry Guakomoli had his arms around the waist of The Amazon as the pair plummeted to the ground. The femme fatale landed hard on her back with The Guak on top of her, his face buried in her chest. They were in the courtyard not far from the double doors that served as the entrance to Neuneuschwanstein. The compound was dark save for a few gas lights around the perimeter. His head in his foe's ample bosom, The Guak was tempted to go motorboating or make some crack about her probably-not-natural airbags, but that was Oslo's schtick, not his.
Instead our hero straddled The Amazon and started punching her face with his sledgehammer fists. He was mighty happy her head was not made of metal like the roboMaximillians. Right, left, right, left, right right right right. The Amazon's face was becoming a bloody sloppy mess as he pounded away at her.
"Now it's The Guak's turn, baby doll!" our hero roared as he referred to himself in the third person. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Yet there was still some fight left in lady. She grabbed what was left of The Guak's shirt collar with both hands and got one leg between her upper body and The Guak's and then the other. She pushed off his chest with both feet and flipped him off of her. Our hero landed on his back with a thud. The glass from the shattered window cut into his back.
The Guak and The Amazon tried to spring back up, but they were both the worse for wear. Our hero managed to get up first, and he lunged. His rashness was rewarded with a spin kick from his fellow scrapper, the hell of her jackboot drove into The Guak's chest, and he staggered. The Amazon attempted to follow up with a throat punch but failed to see that while The Guak was on the ground he had picked up a long shard of glass from the broken window.
Our hero struck, driving the shard deep into her throat. The Amazon started to choke and foolishly instinctively pulled out the glass. Blood poured from her neck. What a dummy. She covered the gash with her hand in a futile attempt to dam the deluge of sanguine viscous fluid then gushing from her throat.
The Guak grabbed a handful of The Amazon's flaxen locks and yanked her down so that she on her knees and one of her hands, the other still used to try and staunch the blood loss. Our hero loomed over her while clutching her platinum mane. He smacked The Amazon's catsuited bottom hard with his free hand. The Guak giggled.
"I'm curious as to how much of you is roboparts, baby doll," stated The Guak with more than a hint of glee.
He released the hold on her hair and bent both index and middle fingers slightly. The Guak dug into The Amazon's eye sockets. He scooped her baby blues out until he held one in each hand, and then he pulled. The Guak's theory was proven to be accurate as three wires, two red and one white, ran from each "eye" through her socket and into her head. He pulled and pulled until the wires were taut.
And then he yanked hard, ripping the wires out from whatever they were attached to. The Guak crushed the cybernetic oracular implants. Apparently this all caused The Amazon a great deal of pain because she began wailing like a banshee, muffled and wet due to her slit throat. Music to The Guak's ears. Our hero shoved his hands into her screaming mouth.
"Next test."
The Guak pulled up on the roof of the no-longer-fatal femme fatale's mouth and down on her lower jaw. Harder and harder he pulled in opposite directions until finally, with a sick pop, the gaping maw of his once future sex partner was ripped apart. Her separated mandible was in The Guak's right hand along with torn skin and flesh and teeth.
Our hero looked down at The Amazon. Her face was one nasty mess of gore and missing body parts. Blood poured from her half-mouth and gashed throat. Electrical burns ran around the rims of her empty eye sockets. Her tongue dangled past her neck. She choked and gargled.
"Fuck," The Guak said softly after witnessing his handiwork.
The Guak let her limp body slump to the ground. He realized she was bleeding out and didn't have much time left. It was then he wondered if The Amazon had a chip in her brain like he did in his naughty dream. Our hero knew it was too late to save her so he merely shrugged.
"Fuck it: uppity bitch called me 'pathetic.'"
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