You clock the fat guy around the face with your recently amputated arm, using it to grope his nads. You seem to be winning, you jab him in the eyes with the fingers and blind him with the blood spurting from your bleeding stump. As you back the heavily beaten Santa into a corner, ready to administer the final blow, you lose your balance and fall over. Your arm lands on your throat, the muscles in it still twitching, it throttles you. >>RESTART<<