What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in Parenting, and I’ve doled out numerous punishments, and I have over 300 confirmed groundings. I am trained in impregnating your whore mother and I’m the top Dad in the entire US PTA. You are nothing to me but just another little shit who needs a spanking. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth like I wiped your would-be brothers on your mother’s chin, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over text? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of dads across the USA and your cell tower data is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, you little shit. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking grounded, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can ground you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in beating children, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the local Wal-Mart 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 just agreed to show up for fucking lunch on Sunday. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn disappointment. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. I will fucking abort you in the 75th trimester. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.