"What can I do you for?" Even if it's, "what can I do for you?"
Well since you asked in your pompous and commanding way, you have nothing you can do for me. Nadda. Not a thing. Nothing.
"Good luck."
Luck may have something to do with it, but I didn't ask for your fake expression for well being. Unless, I'm at a poker table and the dealer is wishing me good luck. Otherwise you can save it. I know you don't mean it. If you really meant it, you would've helped me in the first place.
"You're happy." "Why don't you smile? You don't look too happy."
Well this is how I look when I see you. But if you really must know, I been up all night, partying, having a good time with friends. Now I'm here at work dealing with you which I don't mind the money, but I am here just trying to get off. Besides, where's your smile fatso.

Author's note: What's with this upvote/downvote? Give it a rest you fucking babies. That's right, talk about Portland Pansies. That's the shirt you should be wearing. Portland fucking pansies. Go cry to your mommy, wussies. Baby got little dirty diaper?
Upvote baby, baby been living in her upvote world
I bet she's never had a downvote guy
I bet her mommy so tired of her cries.
Fucking pansies