Mallet and Matchstick stand close together, each of them aiming their guns at the other.
"This is gonna end today, Fusebox," Mallet says. "One way, or the other."
"Aw, but the last 800 years have been so fun!" Matchstick, or really, Fusebox, quips. "You trying to kill me, me trying to kill you; Scheme after trap after ploy... whichever of us survives is going to miss this, I'll reckon."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Mallet sardonically replies.
The two mercenaries fire their weapons simultaneously, their shots striking each other's chests. Fusebox falls onto his back, while Mallet collapses, both either dead, or in stasis lock.
Facelift whips around.
"Oh, hel-lo!" the cyclops cheerily greets Delta, clasping his hands together. "Always happy to see a new face! Now, what can I do for today, miss..."
Facelift's voice trails off as he waits for Delta to introduce herself.