Amar: The wine made from our crushed desires is the sweetest and most intoxicating.
Anthony: No, the wine mixed with the enemy's blood is the sweetest.
Akbar: No, all wine is bitter.
Wait wait wait! You see the whole country of the system is juxtapositioned by the haemoglobin in the atmosphere because you are a sophisticated rhetorician intoxicated by the exuberance of your own verbosity!