The true embodiment and quintessence of versatility itself is the gloriously useful and fascinatingly malleable word 'badger'.
And not just in the animalistic sense, as in 'Is that fashionably monotone, snufflingly teddybear-esque creature, ridden with tuberculosis and perhaps liable to speak like they so disconcertingly do in Prince Caspian, possibly what is commonly known to the countryside dwellers as a BADGER?', but in the haranging and annoying sense also. Which is always a far better thing. Nature is so-so, but the potential for irritating and nagging? That's what I'm talkin' about.
To badger (verb): to harrass or urge persistently; nag; pester
I badger, I badgered, I will badger
You badger, He badgers, They badger, We all jolly well badger together
No doubt you are now all beginning to share my joy for the word. That's what sheer repetition does to the English language, rendering whatever word is being repeated nonsensical and somehow rude sounding.
It can be used perfectly adequately, nay favorably and proficiently, out of context as well. Such as exchanging the word 'riddle' for badger, 'Badger me this, why don't you?'. Or swapping 'ticket' for badger, 'That's the badger!'. Or, indeed, any swearword at all, 'Oh badgeration! I stubbed my badgering toe! How the badger did that happen?!'
It's just a word that keeps on giving.
Incidentally, can you tell that I first started musing on the subject of this post when in that dreamlike state between deep sleep and conciousness as I was waking up this morning? Nah, thought not.