Oh, for the love of Primus, this is getting old. The initial threat of the knife digging into his upholstery had cowed Knock Out temporarily, but Sollux's unwillingness to calm down and talk like a reasonable person (then again, when had he ever known Alternians to be reasonable?) is starting to make him more agitated than he is afraid. He can't eject the troll without making a public scene, and as flashy as he comes Knock Out has some sense of discretion -- and he has a feeling that if he can't get Sollux out of his cab, he's going to have more to worry about than a few ripped seats.

"I think that's enough of that," Knock Out snarls, his voice going cold. His engines turn over, rumbling to life, and without warning the seatbelt leaps across Sollux's chest, buckling into place. It won't hold him down for long, but it might keep the knife-happy troll at bay for a little longer. "Since you won't listen to reason and you won't leave, we're going to have to do this my way!"

Knock Out pulls out from the parking spot with a screech of tires, tearing down the street at an alarming speed -- heading for somewhere considerably less populated, where a ten-foot-tall robot won't be quite so conspicuous.