Each time we meet alone, without anyone watching, you're so damn clumsy. You trip over your own shoelaces, you can't properly fight.
What is it with you?
When one of those subordinates of yours shows up, you become a killing machine, and I can't beat you.
I so want to bite you.
Your clumsiness makes me sick. I start thinking you're unworthy of my time, because there's nothing I can learn form you. Every time you try and attack me, you end up attacking yourself.
I don't even know why I'm thinking about it so much!
Your hair falls over your eyes, and you can't see what you're doing. You're reckless and incapable of attacking me.
Oh God, you did it again.
And now you sit with that beaten-puppy-look of yours, and whine.
It makes me want to bite you even more.
You look hopeless right now.
So… damn… clumsy…
I just can't help it, can I?
I just need to comfort you right now; you do this on purpose, so that I would come and pat your shoulder saying 'It's all right now, don't cry.'
Okay, I'll do that. I'll even hug you, if it makes you feel better.
…But after that, I'll bite you to death!