Kids, Daddy has something to tell you.
Sometimes two people can love each other very much, and then their wife finds out about it. And she totally blows it out of proportion, and carefully, through an orchestrated plot, counterfeits evidence of a bacon fetish which I think we all know could be photoshopped so lets not get crazy here.
I don’t want you kids to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. It was the other kids’ fault. Right, you allegedly have a bunch of half-sisters. Who apparently can’t keep their mouths shut.
Now, you should know everything will be similar. Just a little different. Like, instead of sushi night, we might have sandwich night! Or, instead of college, we might have sandwich night!
Expect a lot of sandwiches.
Your mother and I are already discussing custody, and I am doing everything in my power to keep you away with the exception of an awkward Christmas reunion. Yes, I know we’re Jewish. But don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because each Christmas I will bring you a horse, and will hide my complicated spying equipment in its mouth. The equipment will presumably be horse-mouth-proof.
Don’t look too deeply into this. It must be a confusing time for you all. I said some things. Mom said some things. Maury Povich said some things. It’s okay. All of us love you very much. Not me so much, but you can count on Uncle Maury for anything, as long as it fits the rider of our contract.
I tried to raise you the best I could. No, most kids may not have a reverse-allowance. And no, the zombie drills we ran may not have been held rigorously to the high standards the Zombie Prevention Council put forth. And no, we might not be the direct descendants of Pope John XIII, although I remain suspicious. Just know, that per my court order, I tried. Maybe I wasn’t a great father to you kids. It’s okay. Genetically speaking, you’re not that great either. So it all evens out.
Now, who has their reverse-allowance for me?