[Two Madroxes give way to four more, descending upon Jono and Bobby, a hurricane of punches and kicks. They're laughing at the banter between the two teammates. One turns to another and scoffs.]

People say we don't get along! At least we can usually keep track of each other.

[A third chimes in, landing a roundhouse kick to Jono's chestplate, hoping to damage some of the controls, not knowing the furnace contained within.]

Even if we can't, we've still got the drop on these chumps.