This is really not Angela's thing. She doesn't know how to fight, or shoot a gun. She can spit with deadly accuracy, but she can't really see how that's going to help, here, with a demented little teddy bear, arms outstretched, trying to hug her leg.

Though it turns out, when it's a matter of kick or be uplifted, Angela's not bad at kicking. The bear goes flying a good twenty feet.

"Did we seriously just get faked out by a fucking teddy bear?"