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"A CLOCK? 'ats the problem with you ungrateful children in the West! You don't have any idea about majesty", retorted Mad Mod as the hands on the clock face spun around so quickly that they created an air jet which put out the fireballs before they had the chance to hit. Big Ben then shot a blast of hot black pudding and kippers at Gemini while roaring and stomping at the small heroes. The black pudding was dangerously hot, and the kippers dangerously smelly.

"You know wha' I nevah understood is the 'ole President thing. No wonder so many o' them 'a' been shot, includin' your Lincoln, who you yanks go on about. If you were to try to assassination a king or a queen, the... how shall I say it? The aura of royalty would cause you to miss. But, the president...", said Mad Mod, stopping to laugh wildly, "Why NOT shoot a president? And that's exactly what I aim to do, after I finish up with you, my duckies! Well, squish, more like."

He raised his scepter and took to laughing again.