"A single man!" Captain parroted, still singing, "who can can!"

They got about two iterations of running and kicking and holding the hem of their sweater closed as they high-toed it around Snippy's work bay, crushing bits of un-fired mug under stocking feet, even showing a little bit of pasty ankle and lower leg-jack scarring before the short man managed to tackle them forward and into the sharp edges of the grated floor.

Captain's bruised jaw smashed against the metal and they squawked with the undignified glory of a full-throated buffoon. "Mein face!!"