I cradle the ball with my fliipper and wait for the traffic of foes to line up just right. The time comes and I make the shot, taking out all of the enemies with one fell swoop. The priestess looks on, unimpressed by my feat. I rally the ball and land it just where I want it. An explosion. A cry of despair. Blood is dripping from her eyes. I briefly contemplate going in for seconds, but there are larger rewards to be found elsewhere. I aim upwards and move the ball higher up the field before the priestess can collect her thoughts and retaliate.