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We never speak of this virus. We never refer to me as "Dad" "Pops" or the G-word ever again. If it happens, I don't care who you are, I'm hurling you through a wall. I don't care if you're some Tin Man or bloody Dante or a shinigami, it's happening. I'd rather get shot in the head than have kids or even get m- [he can't even say married]

Now, if you need me, I'm going to borrow my sorrows in a bottle of Romanee Conti and Anita's cleavage.

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