Oh... Jesus Christ. Can you not? Talk about it more? Ugh. [he pulls a flask of something out his back pocket and downs whatever was in there.] Or I'll call... I don't know. CPS.

[which... oof, that's a little too close to admitting he's starting to actually consider this, which given the fact he hasn't outright fainted yet is probably enough of a clue how seriously he's taking it.]

Speaking of, you better start ponying up support payments, asshole. I have a Vegas trip planned.