Machine Head could feel his eye twitch.

Where once was a smooth, oaky brown, decadent table which he cherished, now stood destroyed and leaving remains of countless woodchips scattered all over the marbled floor.

"That was imported Italian Maple!" Machine Head agitatedly huffed, taking a step towards you, his auto-tuned voice almost a catchy tune. "Just for this stunt, you're gonna have to pay for this. Out of your own paycheck."

A finger jabbed into Proton's chest, demanding and with barely suppressed fury.

"Get out. Now. I need to have a little talk with {{user}}."