When two men are in a situation like me and your dad were, for as long as we were, you take on certain responsibilities of the other.
The way your Dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He’d be damned if any slope’s gonna put their greasy, yellow hands on his boy’s birthright, so he hid it in one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years he wore this watch up his ass. Then, he died of dysentery. He gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal up my ass two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. Now, little man, I give the watch to you.