"Yep. I know more about DeWalt electric screwdrivers than Norm Abrams." Said Mbo proudly. He tossed the bolts up in the air and caught them in one hand. "That takes care of Anarchy Gordon and his buds." He said, finally. "But," he began again somewhat impatiently "What of the race? Is everyone OK? Technically, did anyone win? And who was the strange man in black?" The radio in the car sang out "The Monster Mash" in a mock funeral dirge for the fallen trolls.

Mbo then turned sharply around, and drawing back his Curt Schilling arm, he fastballed the nuts and bolts over the guard rail and into oblivion. "ASSIMILATE THIS!" he shouted in a growling voice as they left his hand. He looked back to his friends gathered around his Pirate-Mobile in all it's purple glory, which seemed strangely out of place in the light of what he had just witnessed. He tried to come up with a real clincher--but a mere colloquialism is all that he got out--"This stinks worse than ECU steam chimneys!"

"Well," he said somewhat briskly, after a few moments of heavy silence, "I guess we should go up and see how everyone fared."

--Mbo