In that case, you cut a hundred times more sleeves than I do! I have no idea what you want from me... and why are you so obsessed with ogling, anyway?!

[ he isn't terribly concerned about getting cut—his borg will protect him, if it comes down to it—but he readies himself! (the water's practically up to his neck now, so when he raises his wand, only the jeweled point comes above the surface.)

...and then... the sword goes flying right past him. (he didn't actually bring any clothes out here with him, but he watches as ling slices right through his towels... and beheads a poor defenseless bottle of shampoo he had in there somewhere.)

scornfully, he turns back to his opponent. ]

You missed.