There will be a "Rock, Paper, Scissors" tournament. In my room. Tonight. At about 8:00. You are invited. Come. No entrance fee. The winner can have one of my Baskin and Robbins ice cream cone clowns when my deadbeat PseudoCousin's deadbeat ex-wife brings some to me. If she doesn't bring any, you get nothing but the pride of winning and the fun of having played the game. If I win, I probably will not share. The tournament is single elimination format. The more the merrier. The hospital wouldn't dare turn my visitors away because they don't want me to sue them for past grievances when I turn eighteen. If there are too many people to fit in my hospital room, I'll ask for an upgrade.
How do you like this one, Dad?