The Vocaloid Dressing Room

Luka. On my mark—! [ stumbles in with a beep beep beep coming from the rocket launcher slung over her shoulder. She glances back, and grits her teeth, upon noticing an overall lack of Luka ] What the—!?

[ pulls down on the trigger without meaning to, stumbling back from the recoil ] Nnrg... [ FWOOOOSHBOOM ]

[ congrats, DR. There is now a smoking crater next to the bus ]