For having offended me, Zoltar the Great, I curse you with terminal flatulence.  May your anus blast you at Mach speed III to the Galaxy of the hirsute Sasquatch infested Apennines and may you arrive as the only female on the planet.  Piece to all inhabitants of Apennines. (My curse is not without a miniscule of mercy, a case of giant economy size tubs of Vaseline will accompany you for aid and relief.)