Grandson: Grandpa, just accept it - you're a little beta bitch
Dad: Grandpa is not beta - he fought in the war. That's a bit more alpha than fighting in your little World of Wizardcraft, wouldn't you say?
Grandpa (showing his disfigured hand): I lost both pinkies to the Nazis. You call that beta?
Grandson: Ooh.... pinkies! Call me when you've got a severed limb. Look, when you guys are deciding your schedule, who has ultimate authority? Grandma. When you pull up to our house, who's driving? Grandma. You should get a license plate, I AM BETA
Dad: GRANDPA IS NOT BETA! He is an Alpha Dog! He killed six Nazis!
Grandpa: SEVEN NAZIS! That last one was point-blank range! STOP SAYING I'M BETA!
Grandson: Well Gramps, when you stop asking your little health aide Kyung Sook, "Is there anything I can get you for your birthday, I know it's coming up soon?" I'll stop calling you beta, OK?
Grandpa: I'M NOT BETA!
Grandson: YES. YOU. ARE.
Dad: Alright that's it, we're playing the silent game. Go!
(beat- everyone's silent for a good minute. Grandpa starts to nod off)
Grandson (whispering into Grandpa's ear): Betaaaaaaa.....
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