The Ballad of Crud and Horgus v1.1

You tell Soft Linus you believe his poetry is not good. He looks at the ground, frowning. "Oh," he says. "I'll be going then." Soft Linus begins dissolving into a pile of autumn leaves. "Good luck in your next fight."
After dissipating, three men in black suits rush onto the arena with brooms, sweeping the leaves that are Soft Linus into a neat pile, transferring that pile of leaves in a large dust pan, and taking the large dustpan off stage.
You have defeated Soft Linus.