She-Hulk's hitched a ride down with Duo, and stands on top of the mech, braced with slightly bent knees for impact. It's kind of like surfing, if surfing didn't involve waves or water or surfboards.
The vision is something that should probably be immortalized in certain exotic foreign publications that cater to a specialized readership.
There is a reason that there is an entire class of beings in Jen's universe are categorized as "Hulk level threats." Marv has now been mentally put into that category, and since there's no Hulk around, the She-Hulk will have to do.
"You need a lesson in etiquette, you obnoxious specimen of Annelida putridus."
The quickest way in is through the front door. So what if it's lined with twenty four inch teeth? Jen's betting the softest part of Marv is his mouth, and she's guessing that if she can stop his mouth from working and do her best to rearrange his salients, it'll slow him down. She leaps for the top of what passes for his head, the fleshy hump above his maw, landing and finding her balance by grabbing for the upper rim of his mouth, yanking it back.
"Felony assault. Atempted murder. Snacking without permission. Lack of respect for personal space."
She puts everything, every ounce of gamma-imbued power she has into the punch, slamming her left fist downwards, puncturing flesh with a sickening wet sound. She knows she can hit with the power of a seventy ton piledriver - that's been measured. Her arm sinks in almost to the elbow, but Marv rocks with the impact. That's her cue, and she hits with her right, going for as much carnage as she can, raining down blows repeatedly. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
There's no one she knows here, so she can get away with saying it.
"SHE-HULK SMASH!"
God, that felt good. She's always wanted to do that.
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Date: 2007-03-08 06:10 am (UTC)The vision is something that should probably be immortalized in certain exotic foreign publications that cater to a specialized readership.
There is a reason that there is an entire class of beings in Jen's universe are categorized as "Hulk level threats." Marv has now been mentally put into that category, and since there's no Hulk around, the She-Hulk will have to do.
"You need a lesson in etiquette, you obnoxious specimen of Annelida putridus."
The quickest way in is through the front door. So what if it's lined with twenty four inch teeth? Jen's betting the softest part of Marv is his mouth, and she's guessing that if she can stop his mouth from working and do her best to rearrange his salients, it'll slow him down. She leaps for the top of what passes for his head, the fleshy hump above his maw, landing and finding her balance by grabbing for the upper rim of his mouth, yanking it back.
"Felony assault. Atempted murder. Snacking without permission. Lack of respect for personal space."
She puts everything, every ounce of gamma-imbued power she has into the punch, slamming her left fist downwards, puncturing flesh with a sickening wet sound. She knows she can hit with the power of a seventy ton piledriver - that's been measured. Her arm sinks in almost to the elbow, but Marv rocks with the impact. That's her cue, and she hits with her right, going for as much carnage as she can, raining down blows repeatedly. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.
There's no one she knows here, so she can get away with saying it.
"SHE-HULK SMASH!"
God, that felt good. She's always wanted to do that.