�The way your dad looked at it, this t-shirt was your birthright. He'd be damned if any of the slopes were gonna get their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass.

Five long years, he wore this t-shirt up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the t-shirt. I hid this uncomfortable piece of fabric up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family.

And now, little man, I give the t-shirt to you.�