Andy Marshak: How do I know you?Pop Marshak: How do you know me? A son should know his father. What kind of game are you playing, Andy?Andy Marshak: I'm your son?Pop Marshak: You were. You were before you ran out. You were before you broke your mother's heart. Before you did dirt to a sweet decent little girl who would've cut off an arm for you. But now you ain't my son. Now you ain't nothin' to me. You're nothin'. I hate your guts. Do you hear me? I hate your guts.
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