A Message to Bash the Dog, Complex Individual

Oh Bash the Dog, oh Bash, my fire-barking friend, why do you keep company with such sorrowful clouds for something as miniscule as your present size?...Maybe I should choose my words more carefully—I didn't mean to call you miniscule. Please don't bare your fearsome fangs at me (though they might befit a gummy bear's teeny jaw)—don't you know that even the tiny bumble bee strikes terror in men's hearts And you! Descended from wolves (a very, very far descent, indeed), cousin to Cerberus (MANY times removed)! You must be many orders of magnitude larger than a bee—you must be made of AT LEAST TEN BEES...ELEVEN EVEN...maybe. By the way you are buzzing at me now, you must be made of bees, my friend... or is that a growl? My apologies, sir! You know, a Napoleon complex is not so terrible a thing; it beats being big for nothing (like this humble lumbering poet), and plus, it puts you in great company, that of Emperor Napoleon! Now how about that? Would you like it if I started calling you "Emperor Bash," little guy? Uh oh...I've made you BIG ANGRY now.