"I saved more English lives than you'd ever sold gaudy fabrics to, old man." Shay said, completely unfazed by the vitriol spewed at him. This wasn't the first time he'd been dealing with the likes of men like this; it was his entire life. "Say what you'd like to me, but mind your tongue around the misses if you intend to not drink your tea through a straw for the next month." Shay pulled another smoke out of his pocket and placed it gingerly between his lips, his eyes not leaving the beady orbs of Leonard. 

"Seems to me the only thing that smells foul is the stench of your moral decay, sir, and you need to find yourself some new anti-antiperspirant because whatever you're using now is as foul as the mustard gas at the Somme." Shay said, flicking a lighter open. "Now, apologize to my darling wife, whom sees the world from up high like an eagle while little toads such as yourself hiss from under rocks because they're afraid of anyone and anything that doesn't resemble their slimy, spineless hides. And believe me, sir, if I have to return to this rot again, you will not appreciate the company I bring. Am I clear?" he asked, a hint of menace seeping into his voice.