Are you looking at me? Ahem, I said, Are. You. Looking. At. Me? Don’t just sit there with that insipid smile on your face; answer me, you little fuck!
Silent treatment, huh? Okay, fine. Just sit there and listen. But wipe that smirk off your face before my fist does it for you.
I bet you think it’s pretty funny that you give me nightmares. Yeah, it’s a freakin’ laugh riot. I just love it when you talk to me without moving your lips in that whispery lisp you can't seem to shake. Would it kill you to say words starting with Bs or Ps? It’s a sideshow bonus that, with those permanently surprised eyebrows, you look like that scary rap-sheeted cougar from the Real Housewives of New Jersey.
Don’t look away, you shifty-eyed little spawn of Geppetto. Own your creepy. Your lockjaw looks like Keira Knightley’s mandible. Sand, shave, or whittle that thing down. Lay off the Botox before you morph into Carol Channing (although a little filler like Juvederm would work wonders on those laugh lines; just a thought). Work on your conversational skills and look people in the eye when you're talking to them. And, for the love of Barnum & Bailey, lose the smug mug, you knob, before I turn you into firewood and really light you up.