"Armok's beard, that's it. No more disruptions to the science! Slayers huh? Just humans with special pokey sticks. I'll have my science fix today, if its the last thing I do!"
Red-faced and sour tempered, the mad scientist trudges toward his lair of dark, evil science, face-punching a few slayers on the way who were stupid enough to try stopping him. Little bits of blood spatter and broken teeth on the hallway floor being the only lasting evidence.
Sealing the steel and adamantine belted blast doors behind him, he sets to work...
Hastily, he gathers several odd looking glass jars of mysterious liquids and powders, a novelty large glass pot with sun glass fiber reinforcement, and several lengths of laboratory grade condensation tube.
20 minutes of work later, a twisted version of a backpack, with gas ejection nozzels, a flame throwe attachment, pullcords to dispense reagents into the glass reaction vessel, and a full body hazard suit with curious ceramic ablative armor covered in glass fiber cloth lies on the work table.
Somewhat resembling a blatantly plagarized "big daddy" outfit, the armored mobile geneva violation was finally ready for use.
Slipping the last of the o-ring sealed heavy PVC coated fiber gloves into place and fastening the coupling, a loud bang erupts from the vents.
He had nearly forgotten about shutting all the access ports with vent keys earlier, except for the one above the vent hood there in the lab. Cursing himself for directing the vermin straight here, he readies the corrosive nitroxide and white phosphorus flash flame port attachment, as a specific kobold in a business suit falls out of the overhead vent, crashes into the ringstand (just barely avoiding being skewered by it), and banging its head on the hard obsidian work surface before spilling down to the floor in a daze.
Red anger burned in the scientist's eyes, as heavy bruises and searing hot laceration wounds throbbed back into cognition; painful reminders of the antics of this paricular vermin.
"10 seconds to explain yourself, before I make you into extra crispy kobold." He intoned, cold, flat, and totally devoid of emotion. "Even twitch for a dagger, and I'll light you up like like guy fawkes. Now talk."