Hattori Hanzo: I don't think people still say "dissed".
Me: Of course they do! Like the Beastie Boys! "Walk straight up to your face and dissed you! Bacha-Waaah!"
Hattori Hanzo: That's from Paul's Boutique in like 1988.
Me: Still a valid sentiment.
Hattori Hanzo: No, it's not. And why would you want to diss me anyway(s)?
Me: Because you never rinse out the sink after you shave.
Hattori Hanzo: That's you.
Me: Because you forgot your Mom's birthday.
Hattori Hanzo: Also you.
Me: Because you can't spell "zombie apocalypse" right on the first try.
Hattori Hanzo: Still you.
Me: Because you hate splinters.
Hattori Hanzo: You. And that make's no sense.
Me: Your Mom makes no sense.
Hattori Hanzo: I have no Mom.
Me: See? You disavow your family. You're such a pudknocker.
Hattori Hanzo: A what?
Me: A pudknocker.
Hattori Hanzo: You're reverting to 8th grade. I think it's time for your nap.
Me: Never! Death to tyrants!
Hattori Hanzo: Seriously buddy. Just settle down, you're flaring your nostrils menacingly.
Me: Sic Semper tyrannis!
Hattori Hanzo: Okay...just put down the milk jug.
Me: Aaaaaaaarrrgghh! (*crashing sound*)
Hattori Hanzo: Holy crap! Are you okay?
Me: Wow. Where am I?
Hattori Hanzo: You're on the floor in the kitchen. You swung the milk jug at my head, but missed, got tangled in the fan cords, and fell on your ass.
Me: I'm sorry.
Hattori Hanzo: That's okay. Naptime?
Me: Yeah I think it is.
Hattori Hanzo: Let me help you up.
Hattori Hanzo: Ow! Goddamnit! Where did you get a Darth Maul Pez dispenser?
Me: Hahahahahaaha! Eat Pez Fuckwit! Pew! Pew! Pew!
Hattori Hanzo: I'm bleeding.
Me: (*running around in circles*) I am the Champion! No Time For Looooosers! Cuz I am the Champion...of the worrrrllldddd!
Hattori Hanzo: Where do you keep the bandaids?
Me: (*panting*) In your Mom!
Hattori Hanzo: I kinda hate you right now.
Me: Diplomatic Immunity!!!