"Big shock, Hobgoblin's slacking off." Harry manages, as his leg's grabbed and his awesome kick is ruined. Ruined I say! And then, he smiles.
"You know, Tooms." The Goblin hisses, as the rocket-skate on his leg igites with a vicious, oh-so-firey roar!, "Feathers? Really that great of a costume idea?"
Vulture has had better days. He peels off from the Falcon and begins to fly low, trying to put some distance between himself and his attacker until he has recovered somewhat.
So much for that idea.
Spider-Man swings onto one of the smokestacks at the plant, taking a moment to scope out the source of the chaos.
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"You know, Tooms." The Goblin hisses, as the rocket-skate on his leg igites with a vicious, oh-so-firey roar!, "Feathers? Really that great of a costume idea?"
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And he flies higher and higher...
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Which is when Harry holds his gloves forward, and fires a full blast of electric hell right at Tooms's exposed face.
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"You need to watch where you're flyin', you old bird."
The remark is quickly followed with a clubbing blow to the back of the head.
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