I say, what the devil did you just audaciously proclaim about my well-being, you trollop? I shall inform you that I have graduated top of my class at the Gentleman's Academy of Sophisticated Persons, and have been involved in numerous endeavors with the Ruffians down the street from my abode; might I also add that I've accumulated over 300 pieces of antique furniture? I am educated in fine dining and high class catering and I'm the top Victorian era furniture appraiser in the entire high society. You are naught to me but a simple, uncouth brute. I shall embarrass the dickens out of you with class the likes of which has never been witnessed before on this humble planet, I solemnly promise. You assume you can disrespect my image on the internet? Think again, savage. As we speak I am contacting my diligent secretary to arrange a brunch together at the finest coffee shop in town, so you had better prepare a fetching enough outfit to compete with my immaculate attire, barbarian. The brunch that sends you packing back to the countryside. You are inevitably defeated, heathen. I can be booked at any appointment, any hour, and I can educate you in over seven hundred cultures, and that's just with the literary selection in my guest lobby. Not only am I extensively fluent in in several languages, I have access to the entire Giorgio Armani fall collection and I will flaunt it's finely tailored mastery to outshine your drab, common appearance off the face of humanity, you slob. If only you had foreseen the kind of comeuppance your inflammatory "insignificant" comment was bound to earn you, perhaps you would have tempered your words. But you insisted, and now I will teach you manners and grace and you will learn dignity and poise, yet. Consider yourself in etiquette school, peasant.