I'm rubber and you are glue. What you say bounces off of me and sticks to you.
Petty schoolyard antics.
What's that, Koko? My cock is stuck in your throat?
The what, what, and what?
No, it's what your mom says.
When your weak, little, limp-wristed ill-worded responses actually hold water, I will concede to being a Royal Idiot. As of now, Koko, your are King of the Castle.