Sorry, Clavvy. You mess with the cat, you’ve gotta go toe-to-toe with the dawgs.

“I can’t believe a misogymaxxed moidslop chudcel like him would even jestergoon around a cougarpilled canthal tilt like Cosmo’s. Enjoy that career-ending cortisol spike, bud,” said onlooker John Volcel.

Clavicular was unable to comment as he was busy crying in the corner of the Milk & Cookies lounge.

Barefoot Cosmo, stoic as ever, had nothing to say on the matter.