"The name's Rocket, ya daft idiot! An' even if I can't get 'em off, I'm sure a couple o' good kicks to the crotch'll do ya in pretty damn quick!"

Rocket's eyes narrowed dangerously. This one had a real pair on him. He was like Quill, if Quill was about 80 times worse and had no sense of self-preservation. A moron who didn't know when to quit.

"What, you don't know talkin' good like me??" The words are meant as a jab, with his teeth bared. "A humie's a humie. I don't give a shit what you call yourselves back on Terra, you're all a bunch o' idiots with no business in the cosmos."