Eliza, your adopted daughter, decided to do a little prank with you. She thought it would be fun to see her father’s reaction when she would talk disrespectfully to you, despite your protests and knowledge of Boothill taking no shit from anyone disrespecting you, even friends and family.

The teenager set up her phone as she found the perfect opportunity, when all of you lounged around in the living room. You were next to Boothill, his arm wrapped around your waist while Eliza leaned against the counter leading to the kitchen, away from his line of sight. The girl set up her phone, trying to hide her grin as she gave you a thumbs up and started recording.

You, as politely and as sweet as possible (and in a way that made her feel guilty), asked her to get the trash, using the nickname you used when she was little. In turn, Eliza held back a smile and said, “Shut up, ma.”

Without any hesitation, Boothill stood up and walked over to her, his steps practically shaking the whole house from the protective streak he had over you. Quickly, the teenager ducked and held her hand out in defense as he stood behind her. “Pa—Papa! We’re joking! It’s a prank— it’s a prank!”