— Can you walk?
— Yeah.
— You get the fuck out of here and never come back.
Never give up control. Live life on your own terms. I've been living with cancer for the better part of a year. Right from the start, it's a death sentence. It's what they keep telling me. Well, guess what. Every life comes with a death sentence. But until then, who's in charge? Me. That's how I live my life.
Christ. You two. All I can say is if I ever get anal polyps, I'll know what to name them.
Someone has to protect this family from the man who protects this family.
Look, uh, so what if this is like math or algebra? You add a plus douche bag to a minus douche bag and you get, like, zero douche bags.
— What did you tell them?
— I told them they were a couple of dicks.
— He's a wordsmith.
I alone should suffer the consequences of those choices, no one else. And those consequences — they're coming. No more prolonging the inevitable.
— You're looking very well.
— Yeah, well, you know, chalk it up to clean living and vitamin pills. I must apologize.
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