You lunge at the man as he goes, claws outstretched.
I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!! I’LL RIP YOUR FFFUUCKING SKIN OFF WITH MY TEETH!!! I’LL REND YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!!! I’LL MAKE YOU WISH YOUR MOTHER FUCKING ABORTED YOU, NAZI MOTHERFUCKER!!!
Cobbert swoops in, holding you back.
<Chill man, chill. Chill.
IT’S NOT CHILL, MAN. THIS FUCKER JUST FUCKING CALLED US THUGS AND FILTH. I AIN’T GONNA LET THAT SLIDE. NO WAY MAN. NO WAY.
<Look, how about we–
NO. NO!!! I’M GOING TO FUCK UP THIS FUCKING FUCK’S ELON NAZI SHITMOBILE RIGHT FUCKING NOW, AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME!!!
You wrench yourself from Cobbert’s clutches, clamber onto the truck’s roof and begin jumping up and down on the windshield with all your might. To your dismay, it doesn’t so much as crack.
FFFUUUUCCCKING NAZI GLASS!!! YOU KNOW WHAT?? I’M GOING TO BURN THIS FUCKER TO THE GROUND!!!
It occurs to you that you’re not exactly sure how to burn a car. You feel around in your pocket for your matchbook.
Holding it, you stand for a moment before a realization hits you. Oh yeah. The gas. You remember them pouring gasoline to set shit on fire in your favorite Tarantino movies.
You set to work on covering the car with gasoline. Once finished, you light a match, and, without further ado, flick it into the large puddle.
The car does indeed start burning.
However, in your rage, it did not occur to you that you were standing in said puddle.
You are now on fire.
What do you do?
