*Whuppawhuppawhuppa CLONK!*<br/><br/>A microphone spun through the air at the woman, making a sound like a partridge taking flight, and hit her on the helmet to draw her attention. "OI! YOU!" Mel shouted, her Belfast brogue growing thicker due to her anger. "You want to pick on someone? Try picking on someone your own size, you Wagnerian wannabe!" Everyone else wisely ran for it, fearful of the madwoman on the flying horse.