"I would like to address the sick bastard that stole my barbecue from my front lawn."
"Please return it as soon as possible, I will place an old Shuriman curse upon you if you refuse. Your genitals will wither and dry up as the desert, domestic animals and those filthy Zaunites will shun you, as well as your family and members of both sexes."
"Plus, it’s not radical to steal stuff like that."
"I’m waiting, you son of a bitch."
"Lets see what I got.." Shoving his hand underneath the left side of vest, rummaging around in the pocket behind it. Pulling out a sheathed switchblade. "Ain’t nothing much but I consider it a trophy after some punk in Demacia tried to mug me."