Blood dribbled into the normally vegan-with-exceptions, tree-hugging, Grass Type's mouth - he had to fight the urge to retch from the taste. Mingling in with his own blood and spit, Vinnie gnawed on the arm as hard as he was able, trying to saw through to as many tender parts as he could. Never underestimate the biting strength of a creature that was normally half mouth anyway. Char was definitely not going to be punching with that hand for the rest of the fight.

By the time he'd gotten wise enough to take Vinnie's neck in that awkward grip, the damage had been done. He put up a bit of a fight, snagging onto thin, easily torn skin, but the bloodied arm was eventually released from his jaws.

That didn't mean, however, that he was finished. Char may have had his throat, but he couldn't grab his mouth without risking his fingers being bitten off as well. There was nothing in the unofficial rules of human fighting that prohibited spitting blood into the eyes of your opponent.

Wasn't a sludge bomb. But he definitely had the experience with aiming projectile grossness. With one free hand, he grabbed for Char's head, aiming for either a fistful of hair or horn to pull that jerkass face into spitting range. And then he spat.