Rekk's own retaliation may have rendered Jack's attack a little moot. It wasn't that her aim was off at all—It was that the secretary of defense had succeeded in slam dunking Eggman back into his seat with a glowing, pulsating energy club about a half a second before the sheriff fired her shot. That being said, it was a good thing she was conscientious enough to use less-than-lethal ammunition, because the portly scientist's tumble back into his own cockpit came with a great deal of mechanical lurching and swinging, as he pretty much fell all over the controls with bony legs and arms flailing every which way. The terrible "Haaaaaaaaghhhh!" yell he let out did nothing in particular to add to the carnage, but it certainly made it all the more pathetic to watch.

The big scorpion tail would continue to whip and zoom wildly around with both Rekk and Eggman in tow for a while, like a carnival ride gone horribly wrong.

Suddenly, there was the sound of crunching metal, car alarms, screeching tires, and a very loud engine.

An 18 wheeler, commandeered by one familiar white monkey, rounded the corner, smashing parked and abandoned vehicles out of the way (Rekk's ride was thankfully not one of them) as it barreled around the sheriff's department and down the street as fast as it could possibly go at the out-of-control scorpion robot, on a collision course with as many of the thing's legs as he could aim for at once, lining up his trajectory to try to take out one whole side of four.

It was no easy task for Rock; he pretty much had to jack the vehicle from its owner by force, only to find he was bad at working the shifter and clutch in such a huge, many-geared vehicle. He'd caused the engine to die twice before he got the hang of it, but lo and behold, there he was kamikaze-crashing into giant robot legs. As he had learned in Central City, when in doubt, take the biggest vehicle you can find and run crap over.

His attack honestly didn't do that much permanent damage (if any at all), but with Eggman's current level of distraction (or rather, his current level of temporarily not knowing where or who he was), it succeeded in causing the machine to topple noisily onto its side. The cockpit area up in the tail was soon to follow, lashing down onto (and obliterating) the nearby gas station's shelter with a mighty crash.

Whoops. Yeah, Eggman's machine almost smashed the pumps—As if there wasn't enough flammable, dangerous stuff around to begin with.

The stop sign streaked right on target. It was in the nick of time that Eggman's canopy swished shut again, protecting him with a safe, durable layer of—

*Boom.*

—Cracked, nearly-shattered armored glass. The tail of the machine went grinding across the ground with the blast, and more armaments on its side exploded, sending concussive shockwaves across the battlefield. Even still, Eggman struggled to right himself in his seat, overcome his stunned daze, and regain control of the machine. Its fuselage was largely undamaged, so it had no trouble standing, but the cockpit area had seen much better days. The tail drooped, sparked, and smoldered appropriately.

"That's enough!" he shouted ferociously, his voice amplified painfully by a barely-functional, distorted, heavily-damaged speaker. What followed was not good: In a reckless rage, he brought one of his gigantic drill arms to bear against his foes, or more specifically, the holder of the emerald, Rekk. He wanted so badly just to win and get that stone that he was willing to risk crushing and grinding both it and the person who held it straight into the ground. In other words, he was mad.

Rekk's slippery evasiveness and counter fire quickly got on Eggman's nerves even worse. At least one of the shots was a total flier, since Eggman's cockpit was pretty high and out of the way, but two of the big, high-caliber pistol rounds hit the canopy and further visibly cracked it. The thing was reaching a point to where its pilot could only barely see through it.

He kept on the offensive anyway. Actually, that's a gross understatement. More accurately, he... kept on the... completely and totally tearing everything in sight to itty-bitty-pieces. No, it doesn't make grammatical sense, but it sufficiently describes the severity with which the scorpion robot began clawing its way forward, stomping and slamming its drills down ferociously one in front of the other, making as many wild, rapid thrusts and stabs as it needed, ever progressing forward. There was no longer any hope for the sheriff's office (if there was much to begin with). The place was going to be complete rubble in a matter of seconds.

Even Jam's assault wouldn't necessarily change that. She did succeed in busting the already-crunched glass straight in like a rioting hoodlum on a car with a baseball bat. It was a messy, violent way of handling things, but it worked. The tail-mounted cockpit jerked so hard and swung around so violently after the first couple of blows, though, that there was probably no chance she could stay aboard. Still, she had accomplished two things: Cracking the egg open (or at least the Eggman's windshield), and putting the finishing touches on the damage already dealt to the cockpit, sending his drill assault on a completely aimless destructive rampage while the whole tail of the scorpion swooped and flipped around in a trail of smoke, fire, and sparks, its pilot screaming at the top of his lungs the whole way.