You should’ve kept your father out of this. He was the one calling me a short guy and saying you’d smash me, all while holding a beer in his hand. Then you started talking about my divorce and telling the world you wouldn’t want to be my roommate. Idiot. First, we’re fighting, not dating. Second, I’m not looking for a roommate. When I put you to sleep and you’re lying there next to the rose, I’ll look at your father and ask him one simple question: Who’s the short one now? I’m gonna break you Justin.