Too Much To Think

He supposed he could have admitted that he lost his head a bit with the penguin, and if it had been anyone else he might have looked away and admitted defeat, but that had stopped being an option a long time ago. Now he just wanted something to rip into, something to tear apart. “Dinny no cows could bae so hypocritical. “ He shot back with a sneer. Normally he would have taken that personally, maybe even been hurt by it, but his blood was boiling too hot for him to feel any emotion other than anger and his mind was too caught up in slinging the next insult to register anything she said. She blathered on, rambled really, and questioned his ability. “Am a far cry  bettar than ye at tellin’ stories ya reprobate!” He fired his tone dripping with smug arrogance. “An lest A keen keel one o’ these shites, I deneed sum ‘Sea Monster’ tae do eet fer me!”

He rolled his shoulders back and slammed his paws down with a vicious bark, his body posed in a bow ready to reach up and grab her by her throat. The move was sudden and if she flinched- oh if she flinched he would know he could intimidate her, possibly even into submission. “Oy! How’d ye get so fat eef ye keent even catch one o’ these wee shites?” he taunted, “Mebe that hangin gut o’ yers es jus’ full o’ bullshite aye? Git fooked ya fookin tallow whistle!” He spat.

This is him talking This is him thinking This is you