It ain't even a choice man. That chuckle just bubbles up my throat and spills out all over my desk. And dude at the computer next to me gives me a sidelong glance, "Genosha?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you laughing evilly?"
"My laugh isn't evil."
And the other guy says, "Yeah it is. It's like...a cackle."
"I sure as f_ don't cackle! That's a Heeheeheeheehee. I don't Heeheeheeheehee!"
First guy says. "No it's more manically."
"There is no mania in my laugh, man! That implies detachment, as if I don't really understand what I'm laughing about, and it's more of a screeching, staccato Hahahahaha. I teehee."
"You don't teehee."
"Sure I do. Listen: Muwa-" I pause, uncertain.
"That's not a teehee."
"F_ you! I giggle impishly."
"No. No, you don't. You throw your head back and do a full-on, villainous Muwahaha."
"...It's more like Muwahahahaha." I say sulkily as I return to saving the world from terrorism. "*******."
"What was that?"
"You heard me!"
They don't actually call me Genosha by the way.