Ogre rage was one thing. Gamzee? He was the motherfuckin' Bard of Rage... for whatever that meant. He couldn't tell you himself. Whatever the real meaning, right now it meant he was one dangerous little troll. (Or former troll, given the circumstances.)

If he hadn't been shackled by the current limitations on his abilities, he would have been a blur or less around the ogre's arms. The monster wouldn't have stood a chance. As it was, he had to be a little more careful about how he hopped about, avoiding the swinging arms. Those trunks of flesh could be deadly of they hit him the wrong way. He was at least aware of that.

At least it was somewhat crippled now. Once he could find an opening between flails, he'd be leaping toward the beast's head, intent on cracking both clubs down on top of it.