Stand grown. Those piddling fireflies will quiver when faced with the baseball bat beside me. I flacking want to beat one up now.
Samuel L. Jackson is giving you the hairy eyeball at close range. (excuse me while i go dig a hole and die in it)
Stand my ground, head North and hand them out to all the homeless people. They can either have a nice pet or eat it.
Someone slaps you with a glove, demanding a duel with stuffed flamingos.
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