Is he dancing on Jack's grave? Yes he is-- and he's making the LOUDEST dubstep noises that he possibly can.
Now how long should he stand back and let this nuisance run his victory lap? Five minutes had already elapsed... could he bare to go another five? Or ten? He might no longer be of flesh and bone, or even the same man whose remains the arid earth had reclaimed, but ‘Jack’ could only withstand such a heckling for so long. At least he’d get a kick out of his reaction.
“HEY! Knock that off, would ya?” Voice loud, though filtered in a way that made it obvious he was a digitised reproduction of the (deceased) genuine article, ‘Jack’’s transparent form flickered briefly, but then settled again as he folded his arms in front of his chest. Overall, his posture had the cast of a man playing defence, rather than that of a king dethroned.
“I don’t know how you’re still functioning--” A brief memory check affirms the real him had tried to dispose of this Claptrap unit after acquiring the H-Source “--but I guess this is karma at work, huh?”