She wasn't the greatest strategic mastermind, but Moxie knew that less hogs meant an easier fight with the flabby gas blaster. She started in on the one she had already staggered. She gave the hog a kick in the gut, the grabbed her while she was coughing and stuffed her face into her sweat logged pit. Moxie savored the struggling squeals of the hog before she fainted. Then, displaying some remarkable strength, Moxie grabbed the swine by her tail and her jacket, then flung her into her cohort and sent them both tumbling across the asphalt.
"Har har har! I always hated those two mugs!"
Moxie had taken out the two thugs in record time, but she wasn't fast enough to stop Boss Fogg from hooking up her gear. She was decked out in such high-tech gear that she looked like one of Braun's Gastapo. Moxie almost made a joke about her looking like a tin of hot dogs, but she had to dodge the foul greenish flames spewed at her from Fogg's Farthrower. She ducked behind a mailbox, but couldn't stay there to long because a gas grenade clanked at her feet and forced her to dodge the noxious explosion.
"Uha har har! Keep running cheeselips! Makes it feel even better when I roast you in my personal fuel! Har!"
Moxie was pinned, but she DID have the good luck of ducking behind one of the gang's bikes. Maybe she could use of to get an edge, or even run. She peeked over the bike to check what Fogg was doing. It looked like she was about to toss another grenade. Moxie DID play softball in high school (before she was expelled for pissing in the principal's coffee. A major taboo, considering the principal only drank CAT urine in his coffee and was allergic to rodent piss). But regardless, she could catch one of those grenades and use them against Fogg...
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