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... who is going to perform your funeral rites?"

"A goddamn priest." Sun Long took another mighty swig of whiskey from another shot glass. He wanted to throw it at his son, but he realised that was the last one.

He paused, thinking over it briefly. He flung it anyway. He could always chug whiskey from the bottle, but he needed his son to see sense.

"Listen here, you insolent whelp. I'm not so old that I can't make another son. You better get me a grandson within the year or ...

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