Oh yeah? Well before you can even do that, I'm going to catch a flight to Birmingham ASAP. I'll break into your house, catch you by surprise, and use your favorite bottle of scotch to break over your head and knock you the fuck out so I can tie you up in a chair. I'm then going to hog tie your wife when she gets home and undress her. I'll bang her brains out in front of you (because you'll be awake by then) and simultaneously pluck each pube out of her puss before she makes your ears bleed with a mind-shuddering, screaming orgasm. Then, before I bust a nut, I'll pull out and spooge all over your face. I'll use this adhesive to then arrange a nice goatee on your face with your wife's pubes, which you'll wear into this weekend's matchup to remind you of who owns who.
Mother Fucker.
That's all well and good, but there is a snag in your plan...she doesn't have any pubes for you to pluck.
BOO-YAH!
Seeing how you want to get nasty, let me fill you in on something else I have in store for you:
I'm going to hire a Private Investigator to follow you on your way home from work and take a picture of you smoking your one-hitter. He'll email it to me, and I'll go up to Kinko's to print out 100 fliers with said picture printed on them. The following morning, I'm going to stand out in front of your office, handing the fliers to all the parents who trust you with their children.
Assuming you'll be fired by lunch, I will be hiding underneath your Altima. Once you approach your drivers-side door, I'm going to cut through your $49.99 wingtips with my hunting knife, slicing your achilles tendon and making you fall to the ground. Then I'm going to frog you in the temple, making your right eyeball pop out of it's socket. Since you'll be writhing in pain and unable to stand, I'll proceed to take a shit in your empty eye socket, and pop your eyeball back in.
For the rest of your days, you'll be known as Shit For Brains. Literally.