He doesn't have anythin' to worry about—I ain't gonna kill ya. But ya might be wishin' you were dead after what I'm gonna do to ya.

[ which, of course, is just for bravado, because he isn't going to ruffle any feathers with stupid, pointless fights. contrary to what he's been yelling for the last five weeks, he isn't really as stupid as he wants everyone to believe.

his voice is low and gravelly as he snarls, ]

What the fuck was that all about?