It's nothing but a flurry of punches and cheap shots. In the midst of it all, there's a bright red glow from the Easter Bunny's eyes. A crimson reminiscent of blood. Unsurprisingly, he is bloodthirsty. Surprisingly, it shows.
Jack almost wants to laugh.
With a large twirl of his cape, he lunges forward and strikes at the robot with his claws. A screech resounds as his nails dig into the metal, shallow dents forming.
"I want to see blood," the Halloween spirit growls. He still remembers that first time; how it felt to mutilate the bunny's face, to feel the warm liquid dripping down his hands, to see the absolute look of humiliation on his face, to hear his pathetic cries.
But now all he hears is a hollow echo of a laugh.
"Then I suppose I can at least be grateful that this body doesn't give you the satisfaction you so desire, Halloween," the Easter Bunny responds, a smirk evident in his voice. He follows through with a punch, his fist disappearing into cloth.
He claws at him again in retaliation. At the very least, there should be sparks and wires askew. Yet as much as he attacks, the most he can inflict are shallow cuts.
Suddenly, steel makes contact with his stomach.
He stumbles and the next thing he knows, his back is against the ground and a laser cannon is in his face.
He stays like that for a while, watching as the glow of the gun becomes brighter and brighter.
"I've always hated you, Bunny," he mutters eventually.