quodlibet  

Well, son, I know you're dependent upon us for food, shelter, and work, but we have to turn you out of our house.

But Dad! I thought you loved me in spite of my physical disabilities and un-Amish geekhood.

You're a useless cripple, son. You can't raise a barn, much less an erection. You're useless. You're damned to hell.

Have you no godly piety? No charity in your heart?

We're living in the 16th century, not the 21st. We still burn witches and expose our newborns on the hills to die. Get real. As a matter of fact, get out of here.

*sniff*