Jesus Burgess slammed his fist down on the counter of the concession stand. "Dis is der vorst bockvurst I haf efer eaten. Your horse meat is obviously out of date!" He glared down at the attendent who did his best to glare back at a man almost twice his height.
"HORSE MEAT?" snarled the attendent. "We only use the finest veal cuts here and I don't think our boss would like what you're implying!"
"VEAL! BAH!" bellowed Burgess. "EXPIRED HORSE MEAT! And if he does not like it, den tell him to meet me in der arena!"
A few minutes later, Red Leg Zeff strolled out in the middle of the arena and looked around. "You the stupid eggplant who can't tell veal from horse?"
"Oooh. You are der famous Red Leg Zeff, right? Let's see vhat you haf got!"
"More th-" Zeff cut his retort off short to instead focus on kicking away the section of bleachers that had been thrown at him by his opponent. "That the best you got?"
It cannot be said that Jesus Burgess was much of a tactician and nor was he much for the witty rejoinder. In truth, he had a few tried and true methods that he resorted to in any fight. Chief among them was to find something big, find something heavy, preferably both, and fling it at his opponent. A house, for instance, is remarkably effective as a blunt instrument. While this had been known to fail at times (though it was widely acknowledged as the most effective method to kill a witch), this strategem had worked many times in the past and he chose to employ it here again. In short, he grabbed the biggest, heaviest thing handy and threw it at Zeff as hard as he could.
It's hard to say who was more surprised by this particular turn of events: Zeff or Whitebeard.