My avatar is the gentleman version of myself. While I shout and rage he retorts with clever witicisms and intellectual put-downs.
That is until I really piss him off.
His eyebrow twitches, he coughs to clear his throat (a purely dramatic gesture), twists the head of his cane and pulls forth a long slender blade. With the minimum of effort and the maximum precision he skewers my heart. Pulling the blade free he cleans it with a handkerchief, which he folds neatly returning it to his pocket. He returns the blade to it's cane-sheath and looks at me.
"So sorry, my friend," he says simply, "but your argument was invalid."