distracts Drakul

Drakul regarded me for a second. Then he made an exasperated little sound and put one hand on his hip. “I’ll be open with you, starborn. At this point of conversations like this one, I often offer the dark gift of immortality to someone in your position. It’s occasionally a way to obtain a useful tool, but mostly I just want to see how they react. One sees people for who they truly are when they face death . . . but, honestly, five minutes of you in my life has been quite enough. You’ve no . . . gravitas. No decorum. No style at all.” He knelt over me and lifted the knife toward my throat. “But I suppose your blood will call to the dead as well as anyone’s.”
“Knock-knock,” I said.
Drakul frowned down at me and arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Here I am facing death and telling you a knock-knock joke. Why would I do such a thing?” I gave him the best grin I could while clenching my teeth. “Eternity is a long time to wonder about a punch line. Knock-knock.”
“Who,” said Drakul, in his mellifluous accent, his eyes narrowed, “is there?”
“Thousand-pound gorilla,” I rasped.
“Thousand-pound gorilla who?” asked Drakul.
And River Shoulders roared and hit him with a twelve-foot-long concrete obelisk.
One second, Drakul loomed over me. The next there was an enormous sound and an explosion of shattering concrete that left half a dozen little cuts on my face, and Drakul was nowhere to be seen. The weight vanished from me so abruptly that for a second I thought I was levitating off the ground. I was suddenly dizzy, and my vision narrowed to a tunnel.
“Now, that,” I gasped, “is comedy.”

Battle Ground Chapter 12, Page 118-119