As amusing as that would be, I got the message. This rooftop. Next week. I'll be there.

[Terry gives a slight wave as he backs towards the edge of the roof.]

No more chasing St. Nick for an early christmas present, twip.

[And just like that he falls backwards off the building, before shifting in mid-air and opening his wings to glide off into the night, denying the brat wonder from having the last word.]