He needs to get off this bridge. He really needs to get off this bridge. And that girl's weight nearby isn't helping matters, so far as the stability of it under his feet goes. Kenny makes some kind of frustrated, muffled snarl as he struggles to maintain his footing, glaring daggers at the girl's retreating back. Does she really think she can pull that shit on him? Hit him and then saunter away like nothing happened!?

More of the goopy stuff is scraped off his coat and his skin, and then as Kenny hauls himself away from where he'd been holding on: he proceeds to chuck whatever slime he'd managed to gather at the girl's head, launch himself forward, and shove his shoulder into hers as he makes his way past.

There. The last word. Sort of.