Dad: Yeah, they’re striking outside of that new Shoprite.
Doug: How come you’ve got all those bags?
Dad: Oh, I was picking up some chicken.
Doug: Tsk Tsk.
Doug: You’re a scab.
Dad: I am Not a Scab!
Doug: You saw the picket lines, you said “I need low prices.”
Dad: Oh they were across the street, I didn’t see them until I left the place.
Doug: You should’ve thrown the chicken back in the store, and cried “Viva La Shoprite Revolution!”
Dad: Oh yeah, and what are you going to eat for dinner? Huh?
Doug: (mutters under breath) Just what a scab would say.
Dad: Oh go soak your big head.
Edit: He’s now humming Look for the Union Label like all is forgiven. All I’m saying is, that chicken better be damn crispy.