Whose address do I have to mail seven of ten of his own fingers to after cutting them off with my moms pinking shears before dragging him bleeding through South London streets, finally cauterizing the wounds with the dash lighter from a Ford Econoline, slap him in the face, bundle him up nicely so he doesn't catch a cold on the way to the airport, get him a one way back to his hometown of Cleveland where I've placed nude photos of his girlfriend around his crummy one bedroom apartment to gedda drink around here?