Hi there, Aaron. You don't know who I am, I'm sure, but I've heard some things about you and there’s just one thing I'd like to tell you. Are you listening? Good.
If you ever hurt my Sam in any way, shape or form, you will regret it. Why? Because I will hitch-hike up to the frozen wasteland in which you live (i was going to be specific and put the state, but decided against it seeing as you don't have it on your profile and i figured you didn't have it up for a reason) and find you. You won't know what happened, at first. Not until the drugs wear off and you realize that your face feels like it met a very violent 2x4, and that shards of glass from your glasses are embedded in your eyebrows. Then you'll realize that you can't move your arms or legs very well, because they'll be tied to some posts that I'll have set up in a field somewhere, or perhaps a basement. Hell, if I cut out your tongue, I can probably just use my hotel room.
At any rate, you'll realize that you can't move much. Then the fun begins.
You will receive a shave, by use of an electric sander, followed by a lovely aftershave cocktail of whiskey, rubbing alcohol, and mint oil, for that smell-good minty scent. The aftershave will, of course, merely be splashed onto your face widely, so expect some to get in your eyes and where the glass is embedded in your face. Then, once you're shaved, I'll start with the fingers. Each one will slowly, oh so slowly, have the fingernails ripped out with a pair of pliers. Then, some metal shears will remove your fingers, one by one. After the first bone or two, the shears will become dull, so expect this to be a long and painful process. Once you have palms on your hands, I'll move on to your toes, repeating the same process that I used for your fingers. Once that's taken care of, the real fun begins.
I will have a projectile launcher of one form or another. What kind it is is unnecessary to say. All you need to know is that, should you ever hurt my Sam, this projectile launcher will be shooting small shards of heated metal at your torso -the shards will be no larger than an inch, and not at a fast enough speed to break in deep enough to do any major damage to your internal organs; no, just enough to embed them in your skin. And not hot enough to cause third degree burns, because that would kill your nerve endings after a few seconds, and where would the fun be in that? They’ll be just hot enough to cause second-degree burns, which cause severe pain. Once you've got thirty or forty shards of metal in you, I'll move on to launching small shards of glass into your torso as well. By now, of course, you'll be in extreme pain; what, with your nails having been ripped out with pliers, your fingers and toes cut off with metal shears, and hot shards of metal and glass shot into your skin.
By this point, I'll probably take a break. I can imagine that you would like one as well. If I'm in a good mood (which I probably will be, because the launcher is super fun), I might even give you a shot of whiskey. Oh, you thought I meant with a glass? No, no. I mean a shot of whiskey - you know, with a syringe and everything. It'll be mildly diluted, so as not to kill you, but potent enough that you can feel the effects. While I wait for the whiskey to wear off, I'll probably raise the poles up enough so that you're six inches off of the ground. Then, I'll take a four-inch pan and fill it halfway up with rubbing alcohol. I'll give it a few seconds, then throw a match on top. Now, as I'm sure you're at least somewhat intelligent, I'll assume that you know that the alcohol will begin to evaporate into the air, as well as the fact that it is flammable. This will cause the soles of your feet to be burned, which I've been told is a rather unpleasant experience. That'll last until the whiskey in your bloodstream wears off. Once the whiskey's worn off, I'll extinguish the flames.
By this point, my diabolical side will be tired, and my more motherly side will kick in. That side will see that you're injured and, presumably, bleeding, and it will try to help you. What I mean by that is, I'll start to treat your injuries. I'll remove the metal and glass from your chest, then clean out the wounds with alcohol. I'll probably just fill up the bathtub with medical alcohol and drop you in it, actually; it's not like you'd be able to run away. My only concern then would be whether or not you would try to drown yourself, but I'll make sure you don’t. Once the bath is done, I’ll dry you off in front of a big fire and hang you up to dry again, on your posts.
By then, my mothering side will be worn out. My diabolical side will return, full force.
By any chance, are you a fan of Van Gogh? If not, I apologize, because you'll be following his style: a rusted Exacto blade will remove your left ear. If it wasn't too much work, it'll remove the right one as well.
By now, I'll realize that I haven't actually done anything so far as your kneecaps. This'll disappoint me, as they're usually the first thing I go for. I'll set up a 4x4 post behind them, then slam a baseball bat into the front. If my swing isn't as good as it used to be, I'm sure a small sledgehammer will get the job done instead.
Once I've started breaking bones, I'll remember how much fun it is and start in on your arms. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I'll take care of those. I'll probably experiment for a while with some ideas I've had. For instance, how fast does a baseball need to be traveling in order to break an upper arm? If a blunt object repeatedly hits the same place with low force, will the bone eventually break?
Once those questions are satisfied, I'd imagine you'd be in quite a bit of pain. By then, I'd be getting tired and bored. I'd probably start winding up now.
The phrase "winding up" is pretty ambiguous; to clear up any confusion, allow me to inform you what I'll be doing.
I'd start by taking pliers (the same one that ripped out your nails) and pull out all of your teeth, making identifying you by your dental records impossible. That done, I'll give myself some fun (I never liked playing dentist) and shatter your pelvis. I'll probably drench you in cold salt water at this point, nice and icy cold, before setting searing metal wire against your skin. Then, I'll have a last bit of fun with my launcher and send Expo markers into your eyes, blinding you and crushing your eyes, but not using enough force to send the markers into the brain, which would kill you. I'll give you a little bit to adjust to all of this new pain, then bundle you up in a burlap sack of some kind, put you in a wheelbarrow, and cart you into the woods (or the meadow, whichever) near dusk. I'll then take yarn and wrap multiple foods around your body, such as bread, hot dogs, et cetera, which will help attract wild animals. If you haven't bled to death yet, the animals will come and begin to devour the food on you and then you.
Let me remind you, I've removed your fingers and teeth, as well as your wallet. Majority of bones in your body have been shattered. Your body and face have been clawed away and eaten by wild animals. Chances of anyone being able to identify you are slim to none.

Now, as you seem to be a fairly decent guy, I would prefer to not have to do all of this to you. Not to mention, hitchhiking up there would be a pain. So how about you just make it easy on the both of us and don't hurt my Sam, okay?

OMG HARIMA~ >w< I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE Harima!!

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The dying words of a famous Chicago Gangster:

_{"Who put that violin in my violin case...?!"}

Oh the llama wasn't to get a pageview or anything. It's because I liked your commentary on that cosplay that looked so horrible.

This is kind of random. But I was reading the comment on a picture and I saw your icon and I about died.

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Stare deep into my eyes and drown...are you dead yet? o-o