Josh, I’m really sorry you had to hear about this today, but your father is not Jack Bauer. Your father is not that bald-headed guy who got 12,000 people nuked, he is not the gardener that your mommy used to have. Your father is not a once-promising golfer, who only has 16 PGA Pro wins in a 20 year career and who’s a drunk. Who’s your daddy? I am. Now get in the helicopter and stop looking so depressed, we have quite a bit to talk about.
There has been a lot of discussion on what I was doing in Denver the past few years. Well Josh, I don’t know how to put this – so here goes. I was doing your mom.
Get that scowl off your face, your mother and I met at the CTU Ball around 14 years ago. She was there with Jack; her husband (the guy you assumed was your father) was away on business. John Daly was also there as a guest speaker. Well Josh, during the ball we got a little hammered and the next thing we all know, well… Let’s just say that it was a night that your mother, myself, Jack Bauer, George Mason, the bus boy, Edgar Stiles, the bathroom attendant, and John Daly will never forget.
Nine months later, you were born. Son.
I can understand why you would not trust me, epically after what you have been through today. But just look at the photo with my childhood photo. We even wore the same gay sweater/button-up shirt combo. How cute is that?
Well once we get done using you as a pawn to prevent a war with Russia in Central Asia by bartering you to an old geezer who thinks you are his grandson and wants to take you to China in return for a circuit board, I’d like to maybe play catch or take you on in a game of Monopoly. Hell, we can even take ride on my miniature electric train!
Point: “JACK, GIVE ME BACK MY SON!!!”
by John Daly