And barely has Raoul's anticipatory shriek of joy begun when the gnome reaches up to find a lurid, oozing gash spreading rapidly across his forehead, apparently of its own accord. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" "What the hell?" whispers the gnome, staring up at the mannequin's blank face as blood dribbles from that fresh gash of his down to obscure his brow, and when he turns once again to head off in the opposite direction, he finds himself spinning straight into the arms of... yet another featureless white mannequin! Dun-dun-DUN! The second mannequin immediately hoists one of its arms into the air, and what low light there is in the sweatshop now glints off the blades of the scissors it holds in its hand. The mightily imperiled and soon-to-be-dead gnome staggers backwards in terror, in the process tripping himself up on various mannequin bits now conveniently littering the workroom floor, and he topples over backwards to sprawl on the concrete just as the first mannequin hoists a sharpened garment-rack pole over its head. "VIOLENCE!" The gnome's eyes widen in horror as the mannequin drives the pole down into his chest, and the force of the impact propels a mighty spurt of blood from the doomed little troll's lips. "VIOLENCE! WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT DWARF-POKING VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"
The unfortunate watchman splutters and gurgles for a bit before he finally drops back for good, dead. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" And then the bozos responsible for this mess waste a full twenty seconds of airtime s-l-o-w-l-y dragging the camera away from the hapless gnome's corpse into this evening's first CHOMP!-less commercial break. Way to kill the tension, guys. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Well, at least Raoul doesn't seem to care. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" That's something, I suppose.