Rage. Anger. 4chan licked his lips, and watched him get up, watched him become irate and and drank it all in. He was annoying. He was being annoying and confusing and enraging, and it was feeding his ego- possibly even his power more face to face than it ever could have online. After a moment of deliberation, he crinkled the bag in his pocket, and revealed it's contents.
It was a baggie, all right. Of colorful, tiny, chocolate candies. An unimpressive letdown to the build-up he'd created by mentioning he had weed- which he still did, though he guessed it had to be in one of his other pockets. Perhaps a back one? Maybe it was in his hoodie? Maybe he'd left it in his bike somewhere. He bit his lip quizzically for a moment, and then looked back up at Peter. Throughout this whole spectacle, he'd been sure to blatantly ignore him, not giving a flinch at the pointing of his finger, not cowering to the stern language, but now he was just staring up at him.
Widely. Blankly.
"Want one?" he asked, giving the baggie a little shake.