My fist, your face!

Ooh, what's Michael done this time...?

This is a typical senario in the Skellington household:

Jack walks into the house, having left Michael at home alone and hoping like the seven hells that at least half the house has survived the hours and remains intact. He continues to walk toward the centre of the house, or wherever Michael may happen to be, occasionally finding broken glass, spilt liquid, some other thing. He then notices a new pawprint on the wall in the same place as the one he washed off yesterday, meaning that Pan has once again arrived home before him. Then, the familiar cry rings out -

"MY FIST, YOU FACE, BIAAAATCH!!""

And so it continues. I'm beginning to feel sorry for the ol' Pumpkin King, ne? Hold in there, Jack, the worst is yet to come... Probably.

Jack was borne from Tim Burton's brilliant mind.
Michael and Pan were spawned from the sick, twisted little thing I dare call a mind that isn't even there half the time.