A dish best served legal

When you've been vexed beyond remorse and are repeatedly shown the tarnished spots in a silver cloud, you seek a person or entity crossing your path with a legitimate reason to vent your destructive energies upon. Legitimate, so as to avoid the inevitable feelings of guilt of having dished it out where it wasn't deserved.

And when such a desired opportunity presents itself, you fill up with the anticipation of the perverse pleasure. You rub your hands and get down to it with glee.

I've finished rubbing my hands.