[There's always been a part of Chris that's been deeply resentful of Cassel's insane breadth of powers. Secretly he wonders why Cassel bothers listening to him when he could just as easily turn on him and rule himself, but these are troublesome thoughts and not worth the worry. Cassel listens, sort of; that should be enough.

He takes the power drill in hand and walks closer to Slevin, setting the metal tip against his hair but not touching his skull; trepanning would cut the game to an abrupt end]

You want to talk dads, shithead? How about your dad? Getting a little deja vu, huh? Like father, like son? Maybe I should see if there's a plastic bag lying around.