I don’t have a son, willing to sell
For clarification, there is something in my house calling me ‘father’, but I don’t have a son. The eyes are deep black with no white, anywhere — and he sounds like three people at once.
It took me three days upon his arrival to realise I don’t have a son, nor am I married to a broom.
If alien trafficking was illegal in my dimension I don’t know what I’d do — but fortunately for a lucky buyer, you can have your own son.
Be warned, he may ask after state secrets and classified information. YOU DO NOT NEED TO TELL HIM. DO NOT TELL HIM. DO NOT.
Please hurry up, hell, I’ll accept offers as low as fifteen dollars. Just get him out of my house before he puts hot wax in my ears again while I sleep!
