“They have strong beliefs,” he said. “Remind you of anyone?”
“No,” I said.
He chuckled.
“I’m failing to find the humor here, Jackie.”
“They’re a little kooky,” he admitted. “And don’t call me Jackie.”
“A little kooky, Jackie?”
“They’re a bit much.”
“A bit much, Jackie?”
“But they’re passionate about what they believe in.”
“Passionate, Jackie?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”
“Right now you ought to consider yourself lucky if that’s all I do, because I want to kill you. And I mean that in the nicest way. You expect me to listen to that nonsense for a month? You could have warned me!”
“Didn’t it occur to you there’s a reason why I moved so far away from home?”
“Because your father is the Antichrist?”
“He’s not that bad.”
“He’s a nightmare,” I said. “He’s a birther! In my house! He doesn’t believe the president of the United States is an American citizen. What an idiot!”