Enough is enough. Your mother and I have put up with this for far too long. It is time for you to move back home. Is it my fault that I am Long Island’s best defense attorney? I will no longer enable you to use that against me. I have worked too hard and sacrificed too much for you to be sleeping under some bridge by the Hudson. Just move back home and I will give you the Saab. You always loved that car. Apparently, now you’re just too good for cars. You’re more into face piercings and stick-and-poke tattoos. Well, I know a guy that can fix both of those things. He’s a cosmetic surgeon client of mine who had three people die on his operating table. I got him off of all charges because, dammit, I am the best defense attorney in the Tri-State area.
What do I have to do to sweeten the deal? You can have the entire basement to yourself. You can even have your girlfriend “Seaweed” move in with you, but we will only call her by her real name as long as she’s living under my roof. She will need to cut off the dread locks, as your mother has a sensitivity to filth – you know that, Kevin. You can keep your dog. I will pay to get it de-wormed and to get rid of the fleas. I have a veterinarian client who was accused of disposing of dead animals in a playground, but I got him off scot-free. Why? Because I am the best goddamn defense attorney living in one of the original 13 goddamn colonies.
I get it, you don’t like me. You keep saying I am “part of the problem”, but guess what, wise guy? Winter is here and you can either freeze to death in your patch pants or come home and sleep on a memory foam mattress. You and Seaweed can have the big mattress from the guest room. Your mother and I miss you and we can let bygones be bygones. I can be very persuasive; I didn’t become the best motherfucking defense attorney on the fucking East Coast for nothing.
See you soon, son.
David R. Murphy
The Best Fucking Defense Attorney on the East Coast