Tom Warshaw:
You forgive me, Pappass?
Pappass:
Yeah.
[startled]
Pappass:
For what? Look at you, Tom-ass.
Tom Warshaw:
What?
Pappass:
Look at you.
Tom Warshaw:
Look at what, Papp-ass?
Pappass:
You have the dad face now.
[pushing out an old man jaw]
Pappass:
My dad died... a lot of sleeps ago. Cancer ate him, just your dad. Cancer is the crab on the horoscope. Crab dinner, "$6.95, all you can eat."
Tom Warshaw:
Sorry, Pappass.
Pappass:
It's okay, 'cause the crab ate all the hard parts first, the mean parts. The parts that hate me being retarded. Just before he died when he was only mostly dead, he was *so* nice. 'Cause only the soft parts were left. He was the nicest guy in the world. He hugged me, and he told me over and over, he loved me, he loved me, he loved me.
Tom Warshaw:
Pappass...
[patting his knee]
Pappass:
I hate seafood. You know, Tommy, sometimes I think the crab ate me while I was still in my mom's belly. I think it are all my smart parts. Do you think that's what happened, Tommy?
Tom Warshaw:
No.
Pappass:
No?
Tom Warshaw:
I think you got plenty of smart parts, Pappass.
Pappass:
Yeah.
