From Thief 2: The Metal age
Guard 1: And I'm telling you that the only stench heartier than your rotting burrick of a master, is the liquor on his fetid breath. If he comes near Lady van Vernon again, we'll boil his knackers.
Guard 2: Oh, ho! Mighty fine words coming from a knock-kneed, inbred pageboy such as yourself. Our good master Willy wouldn't be caught near that frumpy little trollop unless he were holding her back at the end of a halberd.
Guard 1: (shocked gasp) How dare you defile the name of someone so good and virtuous as the Lady van Vernon. Our Lady is a saint among mortal women. An angel so pure the heavens couldn't hold her.
Guard 2: (scoffs) Hahaha! Your Lady? An angel?! You're lucky the dockside whorekeeps aren't bashing down her door for stealing their clientele. Why just last night, I saw her out back warming up the stable-boy.
Guard 1: Such slander will not be tolerated while we're on watch! You'd best run and rescue your helpless limp lord before he flounders in his own vomit, or wakes up naked in a hen coop. Scurry off, or you'll acquire some unnecessary ventilation!
Guard 2: Is that a threat, you shriveled old maid? You gonna prick us with your sewing needles? On this side of the street we shoot like soldiers, so don't make promises your arrows can't keep.
Guard 1: (voice cracks) YOU'VE GONE — you've gone too far this time, you camel-mannered, tunic-wearing mollycoddle! An arrow in the throat ought to shut you up!!
Guard 2: RAAAAAH! Have at thee!