[He crows as the other BP hits the ground. Throws his head back, his optics blazing bright, as if fevered. Triumph is written all over his face.]

[And yet he stays put, in an attempt to hold McCrane down, while his body arches, almost entirely too pleased with this.]

You lost! You lost, you lost -- look! It was so easy!

[He actually wriggles where he sits, his wings fluttering.]

Left your guard down, and didn't even fight! So sloppy, tch! So, so sloppy.