"Try high. Dude did all the vodka and goat meth rot your brain away that much? I smoke blunts all day, everyday. I'm a stoner. I like pot. That doesn't stop me from remembering when you joined the XWF and Shane had me sign a piece of paper that gave me legal custody of your ass. I didn't even know what the paper was, I only signed it to shut him up cause he was losing his shit. The next thing I know, I own a psychopath. You and Shane wound up burning down my apartment after that. Then he gifted us with a house and you decided it upon yourself, to bring a corpse into the place, that you periodically fucked. That was my life in 2012. Dealing with all of that bullshit. I just wanted to know if I can tear this contract up or what the deal is with all that? Trust me. I don't want to be your guardian, I never did. So y'know what? On that note. Fuck it. I'll decide for myself."

Griffin pulls out a rolled up sheet of paper that appears to be some sort of legal documentation, retrieves a lighter and proceeds to use the lighter to ignite a corner of said document. The fire spreads up the paper quickly. Griffin drops it and puts the lighter back into his pocket.

"There. Problem solved. Enjoy freedom and all that it entails. By the state of that lightbulb clutched tightly in the grip of your boney ass, shriveled up, gnarly looking hand, it's obvious what that means. Oh and if you see Peter, tell him to lay off the chicken parm... the man's gonna fucking die at the rate he eats that stuff. Nearly put Duke outta house and home, due to his rapid consumption. Duke had to buy a special freezer to keep it all in! Thing looked like it could hold a few bodies and then some. Christ on a motherfuckin' cracker. I do not miss watching him shovel that shit down his throat, one tray after another. Like a man eating food in prison, afraid someone was gonna walk up and take it. All hunched over, his arms up on the table guarding his food. Scary stuff, let me tell ya and I lived with you, so that's sayin' something!"