Shynys is interested how a irrelevant group of inbreds had the time to make their tin foil toy missile. He sighs at them and goes back to preparing for his upcoming dinner party.
Mongo would be baking in his burrow when he hears of a crazy biggun ranting on behalf of the halflings again. He looks out his kitchen window to see other halflings giggling and having fun, glad he's not part of such a dead race as the sad crazy biggun.
Ale'shul wonder's where that booty at.
(My favorite opinion on this "This stopped being funny around the time you and your culture stopped being relevant: about 3 maps ago." since it's sadly true.)