I'd love to kick Warwick Davis in the head. Just take a few steps run up then catch him with the full force of my steel capped toe under his chin, send that little faggot flying through the air.
As he lies on the floor, coughing and wheezing and chocking on his own blood, his jaw a mangled mess of bones detached from the rest of his skull, I stand over him and laugh wickedly. He looks up at me in fear and pain, his eyes searching, begging me for mercy. He finds none. I raise my boot then stomp down, splitting his skull like a melon and finally ending his pathetic life.