what does "little piss ant"mean? “Why did you think it was Duffield?” asked Strike, once he judged Trudie to be safely out of earshot. “Who else would Cuckoo have let in at two in the morning?” “How well do you know him?” “Well enough, little piss ant that he is.” Somé picked up his mint tea. “Why do women do it? Cuckoo, too…she wasn’t stupid—actually, she was razor-sharp—so what did she see in Evan Duffield? I’ll tell you,” he said, without pausing for an answer. “It’s that wounded-poet crap, that soul-pain shit, that too-much-of-a-tortured-genius-to-wash bollocks. Brush your teeth, you little bastard. You’re not fucking Byron.”