[ wp ] 20 years after your abortion , a man walks up to you and says he 's your son .

When I was younger, I spent my first million dollar paycheck on liquor, a broad, and an abortion. 
 
 Twenty years later, I was sitting in a stripper bar talking to my aborted son. 
 
 Between us were drinks and a picture of his mother that I still had n't touched. 
 
 `` She did n't abort me,'' he said, looking and sounding excited. `` She told me that she never told you, so I do n't blame you for never coming to visit me... *Dad*.'' 
 
 He said that last word as if he had been waiting to say it to me for his whole life. It was like a sense of relief had washed through him when he had said it. 
 
 `` How much do you want?'' I asked. 
 
 His brow furrowed in confusion. `` Want?'' 
 
 `` Yeah. How much do you want to go away and to keep your mouth shut about this whole thing?'' 
 
 He shook his head. `` I do n't... I do n't understand...'' 
 
 `` Look, kid. It's real simple. If you've been reading the papers about me, I have a lot going on. I'm going places. Obviously you're here for my money. So I'm asking you, how much do you want to go away and to stay away from the media? Name your price, I have a meeting in ten minutes.'' 
 
 I pulled out my checkbook, and clicked my pen over a blank page. 
 
 `` No,'' he said to me, pushing away from the table. `` It's alright. Keep your money. I just wanted to see who you were for myself. You do n't have to worry about me going to the media, either. I wish you the best.'' 
 
 He doffed his cap, then turned on his heel and strode out. 
 
 And that's when the nightmare begins. 
 
 

