What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you lima bean? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Beans, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Adzuki, and I have over 300 confirmed bowls cooked. I am trained in garbanzo warfare and I’m the top cook in the entire US bean forces. You are nothing to me but just another customer. I will feed you beans with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fava. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of bean providers across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, marrowfat. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your lentils. You’re fucking cooked, kidney bean. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can feed you over seven hundred different recipes, and that’s just with my black beans. Not only am I extensively trained in pinto combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Great Northern Bean Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little split pea. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have prepared your fucking mouth. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn soybean. I will shit beans all over you and you will drown in them. You’re gonna be fucking full, baked bean.