Counterpoint: Josh Isn't Your Son, He's Mine
by Larry Birkhead
Let me begin by pointing out that my potency is legendary.
Here's how it was. I hooked up with Marilyn Bauer at the CTU ball about 14 years ago. Now, Marilyn isn't my usual piece of trim. She's not blond, she has an IQ above room temperature, and her boobs, I suspect, were the real deal. But pickin's were slim. It was hit that or hit Karen Hayes.
So, I said to her, "Hey, baby, is your name Visa? 'Cos you are everywhere I wanna be." Then, I spit on her and told her she should get out of those wet clothes. She told me Rocket Romano was having trouble getting off the launch pad and invited me to follow her into the ladies room. I worked her like an illegal immigrant landscaper. She was barking like a dog before you could say, "O-lay."
Granted, it was kind of like tossing a hot dog into the Holland Tunnel, but Ol' Larry got the job done. Then, I wiped off my crank with her panties and told her I'd call her.
Then, I shtupped Karen Hayes.
Nine months later, boom, along came Josh.
How much is Phil Bauer worth, anyway? I mean, selling nukes to terrorists, that's gotta be a pretty nice chunk of change, right. And if he goes down, the money would go to his grandson most likely, right?
Just sayin'... hypothetically.
Point: "JACK, GIVE ME BACK MY SON!!!"
by John Daly
Counterpoint: Who's your Daddy? I am
by Agent Mike Doyle