I Demand Your Satisfaction!
In ages past for one man to prove himself the superior to another he could declare, "I demand your satisfaction!" This would normally be followed by at least one of the two lying bloody, beaten, and if correct procedure was applied, dying on the floor.
Unfortunately this golden age of manliness has passed and we are left with less immediate ways to deal with matters of honor. Lawsuits and restraining orders have been foisted upon us by those lesser specimens of man whose lack of character made surviving an impossibility under the old laws. To this end I propose a return to tradition by way of the verbal duel.
Unfortunately this golden age of manliness has passed and we are left with less immediate ways to deal with matters of honor. Lawsuits and restraining orders have been foisted upon us by those lesser specimens of man whose lack of character made surviving an impossibility under the old laws. To this end I propose a return to tradition by way of the verbal duel.
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ChipDapper, you smell like formaldehyde.
I've noticed your infantile call to arms, and am moved but little. If your threats could only pretend at holding even a portion of the weight they claim perhaps I would shudder once and move about on my merry way.
However, since your impudence and ill-restraint have drawn you to this act of aggression I shall bend to your will but once and cede that you shall indeed have satisfaction.
Your satisfaction shall be that of the shaven cats, rendered so by a vile infestation of the same fleas which would infest your beard, if only you could grow one.
Your satisfaction shall be that of the socially ignorant spazmatic child, jumping from social circle to social circle never to realize that every person you've met in life has immediately mocked you the moment you've turned away.
Your satisfaction shall be that of the spoiled cheese: too long a time spent in the refridgerator to even test whether it is has gone bad, or if it ever was good at all.
You, sir, are a leperous wretch, and I grant none but the above satisfactions.
Have at you.
Man, if you weren't from IN this post would be incredibly sexy to me.
Subsequentally, you both loose, for giving residence to the state of Indiana.
however, Richmond is the future home of Remedy entertainment, and further, Max Payne 3, so again, Chip Dapper wins.
you also lose for misspelling lose.
Robert Miller, also known as UPSLynx, I demand your satisfaction.
You, sir, are a dithering nancy who, if his house were burning down, could not decide on which egress he should take. As the flames and smoke closed in, you would stand stock still, looking hither and yon, and even as you drew your last sad breath, would still have not picked a door... But all your gentle and good friends could rest assured knowing that at least your highly detailed escape plans were well conceived and thoroughly documented.
Carry on, sir, carry on. Make your plans, while the golden opportunities handed to you begin to wither and fade. In the meantime, I will continue to pay heed to my dream of working side-by-side with a person whom, frankly, I thought was a man.
How do you respond, sir?
(totally deserved though)
I hear Icrontic pays well....
Ah but sir, you forget yourself. It was not I who started this war, this "act of aggression." If my compratriots are too keen to forget I would draw their attention to your vitriolic threat in the "Left 4 Dead 2's two million unit killing spree" thread wherein you claimed "I will paint this town red with your injun blood...".
Injun? Why the particular emphasis on "injun" blood Mr. Dapper? If the matter of import was simply spilling my blood than the fact that it may be of Indian descent would matter little. Only a man of dull-witted ineptitude as you would stoop to such ready-made racial slurs.
No matter, your verbal barbs are of little concern to me. They are the insults of nothing more than a nattering shrew who believes the words flowing from her mouth to be spun gold, and as a man regards a shrew, so do I you.
You are no more dapper than a homeless ingrate given a new suit; what is only the illusion of cleanliness will be unmasked by your inabililty to trade in anything but filth.
En garde!
I may be of service to both of you. Being of the unfortunate clan of misfits banished from their former homeland and made to suffer in the insipid filth known as Central Indiana, I have been forced to maintain a civil relationship with you in hopes of retaining the cognitive and social skills I once had.
As I look upon your angry barbs, I find myself pondering what evil could have made such close associates turn on each other in this curt, sardonic fashion. Further reflection and several spirits later, I had an epiphany. The rub lies within the Limited Edition Halo XBox 360 you shared as roommates. Its exterior caked in dust in hopes that no one would notice the Dane Cook of video game's logo etched into its side. Crying out to the gaming community, "We have no shame! We take pride in our ignorance! We would consider consuming a Pizza Hut Pasta Bread Bowl for dinner!"
Fear not. Your secret is safe with me. I pray that your relationship will thrive in the harsh sunlight of forgiveness and the cool rain of mercy.
Man I really miss Fatcat but sometimes it feels like he's never even gone.
THEN YOU SHALL HAVE IT.
*slaps primesuspect with a glove*
Dithering nancy you say? I tell you this, even if I perished in that glorious fire, unable to procure a decision, understand that I, being of analytical nature, would have understood every single last facet of information on each exit. There would be no one more informed on making said decision. And like a voter in an election, I would sooner trust the informed decision maker than the foolish one who looks around confused.
But would I perish? Nay, for the wheels of fate are in motion, and amongst the bleeding hearts and the cutting edge of progression, I have a decision. Oh! But you declare, thine opportunity is passing by. Far from it! Opportunity shines brightest just before the dawn of a new age, and I too shall embrace it.
And how dare you bring manliness into question? This is neither the time, nor place to debate such things. I am insulted by your careless, inflammatory statements in which serve no purpose in this place, and bring thine character into question. Was thou not the man who once defended Total? Was thou not the man who once photographed shoes? Watch thine mouth, for you sputter knives from it, and I will have no more.
I turn my head in derision and walk confidently away, my back turned knowing that you, sir, do not have the gumption to do anything about it.
This. And I just had to post in this; this, Epic of all threads I almost skipped.