How he'd like that.

Art was in the dining room eating his toast and complaining that there wasn't any butter on it, because he couldn't see the butter.  It had melted.  He was being a little pest saying, "Butter!  Nooooooooo!  BUTTER!"  Ben walks into the kitchen and says, "Arthur doesn't like the butter melted.  'Should I ask him if he'd like a fist in his face?  Should I ask him that?"