"Your turf?" Jean-Paul cocked an eyebrow, more than used to this kind of attitude thanks to the various brats and bitches he'd lived with over the years. "Sorry, didn't see your name up here. I mean, I saw the 'C' and the 'U' on these tiles here," he explained, poking a section of the roof and feigning a confused shrug, "But the 'N' and the 'T' are nowhere to be found."
It was all a game, really. Almost canine in nature, and Jean-Paul would be damned if he was going to roll over first.