Even whilst in grounded flight, Quin was all ears.

"What the FUCK are you doing?" Roger begged.

Kicking your ass, Roger. Just kicking your ass. However, it appeared that Quin's Heli-Knuckle spin attack was going nowhere quickly.

"Stop that. No. Hey, damnit! I'm gonna kick you. I'm gonna..." Roger warned.

"Roger, a simple principle of fighting Quin Maroni is..." Quin said between rotations, "you can't bluff Quin Maroni." Roger said kick, but Quin was one step ahead of him, an alluding reason why he is so damn good at Paper Rock Scissors: Quin is the master of counter-counters. Roger was likely going to throw a punch, trying to mislead Quin by announcing a kick, but Quin was no dumbass.

Quin abruptly stopped spinning, crouching on the ground. He eyed each of Roger's knuckles, ready to deliver acute blocks to any facet of punch Roger could concoct up. Too bad Quin was intercepted with a kick to the face.

His chin was throttled upward over his back and onto the ground and he laid there as the red faded from his eyes, replaced with profuse watering. Quin tried to glare at his contender, who was still in battle stance before him. Too bad the water pouring out of his eyes obstructed his "don't mess" look he was trying to give Roger. Enough's enough. It's time to bring this horse home to the stable. He was unsure of the exact phrase, but that sounded good enough. Satisfied, he repeated it aloud as he pulled himself back onto his feet: "Time to bring this horse to its home at the horse stable." Dammit Quin. That sounded stupid. Stupid!

Following his failed cliche, he had to do something bold. And fast. Time to play dirty. Quin executed a forward somersault, and on the way down, scooped a handful of... Damn cement! Empty handed, he unraveled himself and with as much momentum a somersault could muster, he sprang from his ground, head first, towards Roger's knees.