You walked in the door spouting racial slurs with your emotional-support attack dog at your side. But, because you’re my friend’s boss, I had to shut up as you ripped on Muslims, Mexicans and LGBTQ members. You talked about being a lawyer, your tactical gun training, your shoot-first mentality, and our lazy, weak society—even though you resemble the Pillsbury Doughboy. After 30 minutes, I was fed up and started to tease you, mocking your machismo attitude. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but whatever. “Well,” you said, “I could just shoot you in the face.” You said it was a joke, but nobody laughed. We weren’t scared, just annoyed. At the end of the day, whether with a yellow legal pad or a Glock, you’re just a bully, and ya ain’t tough, Karate Master.
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