I was arguing with a friend when he told me that with my hair, I could pass for a chimp at the zoo. This was followed by a “Burn!” in a slightly higher-pitched voice.

Excuse me, sir, but I do not believe I was ignited in the least. My silence was caused by my inability to decide whether my comeback was supposed to come back to your original insult (in which case I would suggest losing your weight lest you get mistaken for an pregnant elephant) or your ignorant assumption that I was burnt (in which case I would say nuh-uh).

Nonetheless, I have figured out a proper comeback, and it is not too late, even though the sun has long since set, and I see you sleeping in your room. I hear you like cocktails. Might I suggest the Molotov?

No, no, this one is on the house. Your house, especially.

Ah, the smell of victory. Looks like I have to run. Unlike you, however, I will not declare your incineration. Gentlemen leave that for the doctors.