Just found out fat brother rocked up to the wake with a fresh set of stitches, courtesy of an old timey rage problem. He made one stop on the way to the funeral, one stop. One fight later with some Albertan french trash (read: Fahlar, AB, home of the world's largest bee, many slutty girls and a subpar hockey team) and he's got 15 big ones above his eyebrow. One for each brain cell.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a punch in the face.