Point: "JACK, GIVE ME BACK MY SON!!!"
by John Daly
Look, Jack, I know you have a special Jedi/Padawan relationship with your (ahem) "nephew" Josh. And, as part of my paternity agreement with Marilyn Bauer, I have not interfered in my son Josh's life. (Who knew golfers could land such hot groupies? Everyone on the Tour referred to her as "The Ball Washer.") But, I cannot stand by any longer while you, and the idiots at CTU, play God with Josh's life. GIVE ME BACK MY SON!!!
Jack, first you come barging into Josh's home with guns blazing, then torture and kill Josh's adopted father in his own study! What did you think that would do to my son's emotional stability? Cripes, look at me! Don't you think the obsessive-compulsive eating disorder gene has been passed on to my son? Do you want to see him trolling the streets, selling himself for some Clark bars? Because I sure don't!
Then, you transport Josh to the "safety and security" of CTU Headquarters. Are you on the "horse" again? CTU HQ is about as safe as a cold beer in my golf cart. This place gets invaded more often than Paris Hilton's underpants! I almost expected Marilyn's frantic phone call after some Asian assassins stole Josh from your steely grasp. Next time, think before you act. But, then again, thinking has not always been your strong suit.
Finally, you pull off one of your "miracle" saves after eliminating said assassins. Of course, this was after Milo Pressman was shot in the pumpkin. Way to go, hero! You then lose Cheng, the lead to the Russian nuclear schematics, and your self-respect. Well, at least you retrieved my son.
But wait! You had my son safe and secure for about 35 seconds. That's more time than it takes me to finish a 72-ounce steak! The last thing Marilyn told me was that your own co-workers were kidnapping him and dragging him off to his grandfather. You know, the grandfather who's a psychotic sociopath? I heard they are going to trade MY SON for the Russian component!!!
Good work, Jack. Maybe James Heller was right: everyone who gets near you gets dead.
Counterpoint: Who's your Daddy? I am
by Agent Mike Doyle