I’m sick and tired of rattling; rattling’s not enough. It isn’t even foreplay; it’s just a sort of bluff. A sabre’s made for action- for bloody, showy stuff. I want to really run him through; not just pretend I’m tough.
So no more silly rattling - bigger things are planned. You don’t expect a shooter to stay his trigger-hand when threatened by his neighbour. No. Each must make a stand; must blast the other into bits- to safeguard his own land.
It’s time to get a move on; time to act your rage. America’s in trouble. But… listen to the sage who sees a neat solution in letting me engage in a doubly mortal duel - Just you and him. On stage.
Think of all that limelight, the drama and the fame. Think of all the money saved, and lives a war would claim. Posterity would love you - there’d be no further blame. It’s your chance to be a hero and redeem your present shame.