Had I known my opponent had such a grandiose vernacular, I would've been a bit more intimidated. Though I channeled the power of Zeus through my god-like beard and crushed you with the ferocity of the Spanish Flu.
I am the wolf.
That may be the case, my friend, but as you sit there congratulating yourself and growing fat and complacent on your throne made of the bones of your vanquished enemies, I squat in the bush, growing stronger. We shall meet again, Elliott Batte -- and next time, I'll be ready.