[Carlisle would argue whether or not slaying an undead and potentially saving his companion from being mauled by said undead is worth a minute or two of searing pain and seizing joints, but he doesn't get the chance as the shelving collapses, sending both Qubit and Eyeball to the floor. Hissing through his teeth, he shakes the tension out of his other arm, needing both to hoist the the zombie off Qubit. In good news, Eyeball only has one working arm, hindering his chances of escape from Carlisle's grasp; however, he is still flailing around, and Carlisle is not the sturdiest fellow. He might have considered other options in any other circumstance, but desperate times call for desperate measures... or ill-conceived improvisation.]

Oh no you donaugh!

[They both nearly go tumbling backwards as Eyeball lurches, trying to get away from a threat he's incapable of perceiving; Carlisle releases him just in time to catch himself, not wanting to end up pinned himself. Eyeball hits the floor, where Carlisle unceremoniously dispatches him by stomping directly on his skull. It's not the most elegant way of dealing with a shambler, and he immediately regrets his decision as Eyeball's skull caves in beneath his boot, crumpling with a sickening, wet crunch.

Carlisle stiffens, lifting his foot out of the mess and giving it a horrified look. His voice matches.]

All right. Never do that again. It looked a lot more impressive in my head, but in practice, I'm left with a shoe that will never be fully cleaned. Probably stained forever. Noted. But at least they're dead. Again.