You hop off the bird-thing, and the ground kindly reminds you of how little your legs work and what it feels like to try and dig a hole with your face.
Spitting blood and chipped teeth, you kick wildly at the only creature that's shown you an ounce of kindness since this madness began. The bird-ape weeps a single sapphire tear, flaps its iridescent wings, and monkey-paws down the fire escape. Congratulations, you're even a prick when you're high.
YOU LOSE. I don't even feel like finishing. Fuck you.