Sir, I take exception to your hanging your hammock from my tree, and I demand satisfaction. I challenge you to a duel--artillery duel! We meet at dawn. At ten paces, we turn and fire our artillery pieces. I trust that you find these terms acceptable, and may God have mercy on your soul.
Uh, unless you have to go to work or something. You know, I don't really know you. And, quite truthfully, it didn't really piss me off that you hung up a hammock here. I mean, you know, what do I care, right?