*furiously types an even ruder response*
TAKE THAT, YOU LILY-LIVERED, WART-INFESTED, ROTTEN FISH BREATH STINKIN' TROLL.
*sits back with satisfaction and waits for a reply*
You ever notice? You ever notice, my friends, how some peeps out there have nothin' better to do than troll around on social media makin' rude and ugly comments, and...
WHA??? What the mouses? He said WHAT??? Well I'll show him. I'll tell him where to go. I'll...
I'll tell him his mama wears combat boots. NO, I'LL TELL HIM his mama WOULD wear combat boots if her mug wasn't as ugly as his, and...
No, that's mean. That's mean for his mama, I mean. Besides, I have no idea what she looks like. His mama might be the most beautiful woman on earth for all I know.
On the other paw...
On the other paw, she might, in fact, look exactly like him.
I shall be the bigger cat, and I shall leave his mama out of this debate.
Debate? More like WAR.
LISTEN HERE, YOU FLEA-INFESTED SCUMBAG OF THE SLIMIEST SCUM THAT EVER OOZED OUT FROM UNDERNEATH THAT OL' PRIMORDIAL ROCK, YOU MAKE ONE MORE COMMENT LIKE THAT LAST ONE, AND I'M GONNA MAKE YOU REGRET EVER LEARNIN' HOW TO TYPE.
Peeps. They think they're a match for a cat.
What's this now? *jaw drops* He's callin' my peep - MY PEEPERS - A WHAT? Of all the nerve. I left his mama out of my comments. The least he can do is leave out my peep.
Although he is kinda right about the peep's hair.
BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. The point is, this fight is between me and him, and he has no business insultin' my peep.
Even if her hair does sometimes look like she went and stuck her finger in an electrical outlet.
"Seville, what are you doing with my Facebook account?"
Defendin' your honour, Peepers. You can thank me later.
What's he sayin' now? Is he still trollin' around insultin' my peep?
Looks like he's given up for a bit. Must have realised he was no match for me, Seville the Cat, THE KEYBOARD WARRIOR OF THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY.
"Seville! Remove that picture right now. It's disgusting!"
But I... I was just... I was just catsplainin' to this idiot how things actually work in this world, and how he's as stupid as the mother of all stupid rocks. He's not very bright, you see, and he needs the added visual aids. THUS, the picture of what I left in the ol' litter box this mornin', after eatin' that brick of stinky ol' cheese.
"So you're in an on-line fight with a troll."
"Using MY Facebook account?"
"And exactly what makes your behaviour any different from that of the troll? Why is he a troll but you're not, even though you're BOTH behaving in the very same manner?"
*rolls eyes* Because I'm a cat, Peepers. Cats can't be trolls. FACT. Plus...
Plus, look what he wrote about you, right here. See how he described your....
from turning to stone after looking at my face? And then he said I...??? SHOVE OVER, SEVILLE. Your peep has some typing to do."
*grins from ear to ear*
Welcome to the dark side, my peep.
Remember to mask up, too.