What the f**k did you just f**king toast about me, you little baguette? I'll have you know that I rised to the top of my dough in the toaster and I've been involved in numerous secret sandwiches for the Al-Grain, and I have over 300 confirmed toasters. I am trained in pretzel warfare and I am the top loaf in the entire bag. You are nothing to me but just another grain. I will toast you the f**k out with bread the likes which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my f**king words. You think you can just get away with baking that shit with me on the internet? Think again, f**ker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of bread across the USA and your toaster is being traced right now so you better prepare for the bakesale, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic thing you call a toaster. You're f**king bread, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime and I can make bread in over 700 ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed baking, but I have access to the entire kitchen in my apartment and I will use it to its full extent to make the best bread seen on this continent, you little shit. If only you could've known what unholy retribution your little "clever" grain was about to bake down on you, maybe you would've held your f**king dough. But you couldn't, and you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you go***mn idiot. I will throw bread all over you, and you will drown in it. You're f**king bread, kiddo.
