Spike was playing Call Of Duty or something in his room. You were in there with him, itching for attention.

You heard some distinct yelling from his headphones after he hit a good shot.

Oh, just because you’re fucking bad as shit does NOT mean you get to call me a slur that you can’t reclaim, bastard.

He was doing pretty good! Great for him, but you knew he had a tendency to keep playing if he was on a lucky streak. Boowomp.