“I bet you can’t wait to have that little chickenshit Robbie sitting across from you every Thanksgiving.” “It’s Rodney,” Ghost corrected. “Is it?” “I…yeah. I think. Richie, maybe?” “Either way” – Mercy shook the hand off his arm – “I’m sure he’ll make you a great son-in-law.” He was four steps away when Ghost called after him: “You’re a goddamn asshole.” Mercy saluted him with a wave over his head.
