Things were beginning to go their way. The new witch, whatever her name was, had done some weather magic with that mystic crock pot, and the giant had run out of disposable limbs. Baron and Jaklo had begun to directly attack the thing, not even taking into consideration Drake. Sighing, he noticed the lasting damage the other two had done. He wasn't the best at direct combat, and any of his more...dangerous acids would injure his coworkers. The golem was almost dead, and Atlas would feel bad if he didn't pitch in.

Rummaging through his bag, he pulled out the vodka. Stuffing the towel down the bottle, he screamed something incomprehensible in Russian, and lit the fuse. He tossed it with vampiric strength at the giant, knocking it square in the shoulder. It was at least three times the speed of a pitcher in your average MLB game, and this did the monster no favors. The fire, combined with the sheer force of impact, unbalanced the giant to a significant extent,leaving it open to attack.