What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I rated top of my group in Popcorn Chef, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids making "Pöpcørn", and I have over 300 confirmed popcorn recipes. I am trained in how to use a 2114 oil pump with 36oz popcorn machine and I'm the top popper in the entire US Coast Guard Culinary School. You are nothing to me but another burnt kernel. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision seasoning and imported butter melting, the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies and culinary specialists across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the pressure and the intense, unbearable heat on the endosperms, maggot. The pressure, heat and explosion that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can pop corn and kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in 'popcorn hammer' combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Coast Guard Culinary School and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue and gotten some delicious popped corn later. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit popped fury all over you and you will drown in salted butter. You're fucking dead, kiddo