[ Scout's been shoveling food in his mouth this whole time, and he speaks around a mouthful, cheeks bulging like some sort of chipmunk. ]

Well, like you said, ain't no referee, so I guess we're gonna just have to agree to disagree.

[ His jaw still hurts like hell, and there's a purpled bruise on it now. He'll be damned if he lets Spy know that, though, or lets it interfere with eating. He swallows. ]

'cept, yanno, you're wrong. 'Con-teem-plating mah victowy', my ass.

[ Look, he can do a horrible accent of you, too. ]