A Magma grunt stumbles backstage. A knife is impeded in her shoulder.
"Boss?" She moans. "Some fairy thing from Aqua stabbed me. Do I need to fill out a Workplace Accident form or is this considered my own time?"
Jiji floats on through, giggling. They're saying something, bells chiming, but that's not what his brain latches onto. It's the hitch of breath flowing out of Maxie's throat.
It's his emptied eyes. Hollow, feral. Doll's eyes.
He whips out his Masterball. But he's knocked over, the ball sent flying onto the stage, as oilslick flesh jolts past him. Jiji wheels and avoids the extended limb, but the grunt with a knife in her doesn't fair as well.
She's dragged in. In, squirming and screaming, as vinyl rips and tears. Flesh bulges and shifts and he looks up, up, because Maxie is now much bigger.
Still empty eyed. Still snarling.
He makes a break for the ball on the stage.
