Your father said, "You've screwed up for the last time, Teddy. I'm sick and tired of you acting like a rich deadbeat! You've never had a job, you don't volunteer, you haven't started a degree program, all you do is lounge around and party! You're technically an adult, but you're more like a kid who can drive!"
You roll your eyes, sick and tired of having this conversation yet again.
"Look, dad, I'm sorry about the Mercedes, but I'm not gonna go out and start some lame fast food night shift just because I'm old enough. We're rich enough that I don't need to do that, and--"
"You mean I'm rich enough! I had to work for my money, but--"
"Come on, I'm your son, what are you gonna do, cut me off? Besides, you're still contractually obligated to support me as long as I need it, mom's lawyers already made sure of that years ago. We've been over this. I'm still young and I'll eventually figure out what I want to do with my life."
Your dad sneered and said, "You don't need time for that any more. I've already figured it out. You're gonna earn your keep somewhere else for a change, and you're gonna make a difference for once in your life. You remember that Jason trains service dogs?"
You're so sick of hearing about your father's boyfriend's vaunted life of service.
"Jason can do whatever he wants to, dad. I'm not gonna train dogs with him just because I wrecked some cheap car you could by another dozen of."
"Oh, you're not going to be TRAINING service dogs," he insisted, "You're going to BE trained AS a service dog!"
You stop talking and just stare at your dad for a moment. "You're not serious. Is this some sort of BDSM fantasy you pervs have going or what? You think I'm going to walk around naked for your pretentious little boy toy and let him do his obedience school bullshit on me? I'm 18 years old and I'm not playing doggy for your--"
"Oh, you're not going to be PLAYING anything, except fetch maybe," your dad interrupted, holding up some little device like a cell phone. "This little thing can turn you INTO a dog, a REAL dog, maybe a nice big German shepherd. You'll get your shots, get your training, and then get shipped off to help some blind person or maybe somebody with PTSD. One thing you won't do is stay here eating my food, spending my money, wrecking my cars, and expecting here to live here with no responsibilities. You'll learn to ... what are you lookin' at Ted?"
Apparently, he noticed your nearly blank stare of shock, pity, and complete disbelief.
"I think I'm looking at the richest complete sucker in the world right now," you explain in a patronising voice. "Did I seriously here you just say dumb gizmo can turn me into a dog? Like fur, four legs, big ears, woof woof, the whole bit? How much did you pay for that knock off ebook reader?"
"It's not an ebook reader! It's the Chronivac 4.0 Beta. Still under testing, but it's by far the most advance quantum realignment package of all time! And it was free. I have connections at Transdem, so I was able to pull some strings to be one of the early adopters. You'll see. This thing will work, and you had better be the model canine for Jason, or he'll just farm you out to a puppy mill I own in Manitoba. We'll have you in the early stages of his training program by the end of the day."