I took you out of the grays to reply to this.

*huffs heavily; stares hard at Katie*

One night in a little saloon in Fort Stockton, Texas, I ripped a man’s leg off and beat another man to death with it. The West Texas desert ran red with blood that night, my friends, and it pooled underneath the I-10's overpass and I bathed as a grackle does in the puddled muddy water of the rolling thunderstorms…

Ross, it’s not a fight if you get punched in the face and can’t fight back.