Oh, boy. My poor boy. No, don't cry, boy. I'll remember you. Fuck, and he was a good one, too. But boy, you made your own bed and you sleep in it. It is what it is, boy. And that's okay. You're just who you are, and I am just who I am.

But boy, oh boy. You're so terribly efficient you sidelined a gem. Boy, I'm the diamond rough-cut four petals clover. But a spoiled brat wouldn't know how good it is to have the juicy meat in his mouth. I take the blame, boy, for I spoiled you.

I have premonitions, boy, of what would happen in the future. I have so many things to say to you, but I'll just let you live. It is just what it is. You are just a man, and what you did was just what a man do. I couldn't deny nature. So, I suppose... Farewell, boy.