[Badou smirks at the sight of this distress, seeing Kyouya all ruffle feathered and out of sorts was both unnerving and also rustled the coals of his Being a Dickhole. So to celebrate this union upheaval, Badou lights a new cigarette and takes a puff]

Pretty sure Jane Eyre's petticoats are bunchin' up around her crusty victorian asscheeks at your name droppin', brah. [His smirk takes on a dangerous edge as he, too, is overcum by emotion, both...nostalgic, missing, and annoyance at this asshole's skill.] Oy, oy, oyyyy, there you an the rest of your ass wallet stuffin' ancestors go, belittlin' the work of your employees an stuffin' your faces with fish jizz! This shit's called selective mothercuntin' memory. You oughtta throw all that money of yours at some doctor an get that checked out.

[A single red eyebrow hitches at the sheer sass oozing (....) from his boss and he leers, half impressed at his uncouth swineline behavior]

Cock? You can't even say it, ya nancy boy? No, it stands for Cocksure, like Kyouya's roots go back to Kyouya the god of cheereke tampons who once took a gander at Hera's bra an was punished, his ass filled with all the clipboards of the multiverse.