A football player threatened me, in a very specific way.
He'd been angered by some sly put-down fired at him by my very beautiful and very brilliant girlfriend. In his world, that kind of impertinence breaks the rules. His size allows him to insult others, but naturally others do not insult him, particularly not women, particularly not beautiful women, whose role in his world does not include this or any other type of uppity.
Instead of replying to her he turned to me. I assume because in his world it's the man's job to keep his woman in line. Bitterly, with venom, he said, "We can take you out in the orange groves and rape your ass."
Naturally I burst out laughing. Not because I believed threats from neofascists should be regarded without seriousness, but because the perfect comeback seemed obvious.
"Oh," I said. "Now I understand why they call you boys 'Greeks'."
Forty years later I no longer remember what happened next. My guess is that's because everyone in earshot was laughing so hard that pretty much nothing happened next. I do remember watching Johnny No-Neck's jaw grind in fury.