We were probably fighting over the TV on who got to watch what, which was a continuing battle as long as we lived under the same roof. Only thing I remember is seeing him snatch my shinny new Shogun out of my hands and throwing it across the living room. It was doing little mini cartwheels once it hit our turquoise carpet until poor Raider finally came to a halt underneath our dinning room table. I completely forgot about the TV and ran to the aid of my new die-cast friend. As I picked him up, I noticed he had lost a horn. My new toy was already broken and back then toys didn’t get replaced, but repaired. For months he had this glued on horn that kept falling off until it finally disappeared down the dreaded heater register. His first bit of battle damage!
Actually it helped his evil personality and after a few times in the sand box he was looking even meaner.
Eventually the pins in his knees broke in half and were replaced with nails. He continued to fight thru his pain even after the loss of his other horn. Probably the final blow to send him into exile at the bottom of my toy box was when his fist broke off leaving the peg stuck up inside his arm.