You're so old-fashioned, [but in an oddly fond way, I'm sorry,] but I've heard that a man who sticks to his guns is worthy of respect. It's too bad the man who said as much hates your guts more than he hates mine.

[Walter's a treasure tbh and Ferid loves it.]

What would cause you to add more rules? Morning barrages of eggs? An overuse of paper? Someone sliding down the hall at well past midnight, playing the accordion?