Brett couldn't believe this shit. He had been in the jungle, fighting for his country to make it better for his kids and wife and now they were gone and the only one left was a loser hippy stoner. He couldn't believe it. He had killed plenty of Vietnamese soldiers and Vietcong to come home to basically a shit marriage and a bunch of drama. Where did he go wrong, was it when he married who he thought was the love of his life and went to war leaving the needs of his wife untended. Was it when he came home with nightmares that he couldn't shake or the deaths of his men on his mind. All he knew is now his house was almost empty and smelling like weed.<br/><br/>So as he contemplated what to do now that he had a job, he thought about how to help his second eldest son get one as well. Not like he put any effort in or cared, but the six foot seven man below him had enough of his carp and had been planning on what to do with the young man. Hell, he was forty years old and growing hairs with the knowledge that his son was a stoner. So he slowly stood and grabbed his nickel plated colt forty five and a thick Beechwood cigar and walked upstairs to his sons door." Alright you peace of shit tree hugger, time to teach you responsibility." He  lifted his booted food and kicked the door off of its hinges, walking in and turning to Seth with a raised brow." You're going to fix that." He growled before the man walked over to the bed, stood on top of it and raised his colt and shot four holes into the ceiling and roof." Suppose to be hot tomorrow, snow melting temperature. Suggest you fix that as well, four years in the army, four holes to by fixed or a wet bed. I am going to teach you some God damn responsibility, starting with fixing your room." He retired into the walls and bathroom door, grabbing all of seats clothes and pissing all over them with a frown and walking towards the now broken door way." Fix your God damn room son, if you don't then I will get worse.... you haven't seen hard just yet... don't make me discipline you." He walked out of the room and went downstairs, sitting down and watching as the Kennedy assassination was covered while lighting the cigar in his mouth." Fucking hippy."