*Doorbell rings at 2.45 am*

*Baron ignores it*

*Doorbell rings again*

*Baron picks up the intercom thing*

Baron: What is it?

Imbecile: Yeah...I'm here to see Laura.

Baron: Do not ever ring a stranger's doorbell at 2.00 in the moring, you fucking faggot.

*Imbecile tries to open the door again but the doorbell never rings again*

It was some Scottish guy, possibly drunk, either at the wrong house or locked out by his scumbag girlfriend.

You might think that this possibly-alcohol fueled young Scotsman wouldn't take kindly to being called a homosexual. But I think the rugged American accent conveyed to him in no uncertain terms that I meant business and was ready, willing, and able to bust some heads.