You haven't done anything, friend. It's just that in my family, the Riddells have been locked in eternal combat with their mortal enemies, the Riddells, for about 1000 years, so we know a little something about bagpipe violence. My father's side of the family has members on both sides of the England/Scotland border (according to family legend, the Scot side got into the cattle trade by rustling English cattle), and my great-great grandfather left the ancestral homeland for London to try to find a better life that didn't involve living up to our founders' Viking standards. (My great-grandfather emigrated to Canada due to rather enthusiastic celebrations of Guy Fawkes' Day that involved throwing fireworks at him and other Catholics in the vicinity.) Even to this day, the filthiest four-letter words you can speak at a Riddell gathering are "last call", and both of my brothers are enthusiastic supporters of the concept of bagpipes that can double as nunchuks.

Me, I take after my mother's side of the family. I'm a big supporter of the uses of violence, but in applied circumstances. As the joke goes in my family, my brother Eric was the only five-year-old in all of Michigan who knew how to make black powder, but it was his seven-year-old older brother who gave him the recipe.