You're a gnarled ex-fighter with a heart that beats only to the memory of your late wife. You run a dilapidated boxing gym in a bad neighborhood where lost causes train under the tutelage of true believers. Today, for the first time in fifteen years a woman is gonna come walking into your gym. She'll earn a chorus of catcalls and whistles as she marches her dress past your clientele. That woman is your daughter, come to say hi for the first time since your 60th birthday two and a half years ago.
"I'm gettin' married papa," she'll tell you. "I want you to give me away."
Say, "Who is it thinks he's good enough to marry you? Nobody from this here neighborhood."
Your daughter will say, "It's Jack Plenty."
The last time you trained a fighter, eight years ago, he lost his eye in the ring to Jack Plenty. You had staked your life on that kid.
"He already took too much from me. I ain't giving him nothing."
"He's done with fighting, Papa. He just wants to love me and we're gonna co-manage a 99 cent store called Plenty Cheap."
Say, "Why'd you have to go and fall in love with a fighter, kid?"
Your daughter will say, "I'm my Mama's girl. We both can't help but hand our lives over to those hard boys with the soft hearts."
Agree to give her away. Then go into your office and sit at your desk staring at a picture of your late wife until a skinny kid with a tricky uppercut walks in begging you to train him. Against your better judgment, you'll agree to help the kid out. As you could have predicted, he'll end up making it to the title fight, which he will win right before he dies when his heart blows up in his chest (TOO MUCH HEART!). After you agree to train the kid, a telemarketer will call and ask you if you'd like to switch cell phone services. Tell the telemarketer that even though you're probably going to regret it, you'll go along with his crazy anytime minutes plan.
Happy Agree To Some Bad Ideas Day!