Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together, sittin’ around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after. No. Doesn’t work like that, Rick. Not anymore.
Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that.
In case you haven’t caught on, I just slipped my d*ck down your throat, and you thanked me for it.[to Rick]