No time for games.

I don't have time for games.

I'm not "S"-ing around here.

When I pull up in front of a nice restaurant or all-you-care-to-eat buffet and toss you the keys to my Chevy Spark, don't even think about a joy-ride, Ferris.  Just park it in the valet section and bring it back exactly like you found it.  You know I check that mileage, Son.

I don't have time for games.

When I trade my Motorola Razr flip phone in for the new model in the alternate color, don't try to up-sell me to a larger data plan or add on a home security system, Amigo.  I'm grandfathered into the "Who's in Your Five" plan and I bought second-hand ADT home-security stickers online for all my windows and doors.  Maybe you'll get lucky with the next "sucker".

I'm not "S"-ing around here.

When I visit your department store/outlet clearance center to see the latest line up of Rockports, don't try adding on a matching belt with me.  The one I'm wearing is actually reversible, bonded leather, and high sheen on both sides, so it can handle anything you throw at it.  Brown or black...oxfords, wing-tips, monk straps...I'm talkin' weekend or weekday, Broheim.  Boardroom to break-room.  Deposition or subpoena. You need a fill-in for a police line-up?  I'm your Huckleberry.  So save your little spiel for the next pigeon, Slick.

I don't have time for games.

When I spring for the 15-point oil and lube, don't try to lay that synthetic oil sob story on me.  You can better believe that stuff dries up your seals and cracks your gasket.  You'd love what your little diagnostic machine has to recommend after that!  I was born at night, but not last night, Kemosabe.

I'm not "S"-ing around here and I'm not even tryin' to hear anymore of your noise.  Now, you can just go run along and check your latest "Yelp" review, Home Biscuit.

When I order your 2 large, 2 toppings deal, don't think you are adding a side of ranch on my dime.  I make enough of my own at home every Sunday to carry me all the way through the work week.  More taste than yours, pennies on the dollar.  Oh, and those jalapenos you'd love to get commission on...yeah, it's called Sam's Club, in bulk, Friend-o.  I'll still be fully stocked with unopened cans when your whole little strip center is boarded-up and long-since abandoned.

What I do NOT abide are games, and you best believe I'm not "S"-ing around here.
I'm gunna guarantee you that much.