"You put it near my fucking mouth and I'll bite it off. Just try me, dickless." And because Barty seemed to be so very bothered by it, he proudly spat at him. If he was gonna die, he was gonna die with some shred of pride. Difficult to have, in the position he was in. He could barely move, he was stuck in this fucking awkward position and his only weapon was his mouth.

So yeah, he was gonna spit and bite all he fucking wanted.

"Back off, Braveheart."