Well if he held a gun to my head, I guess I'd have to strike up the only possible life-saving catchphrase...

"Houssam...I am your father."
To which he'd reply..."Yes, yeah, I did notice a likeness, now you come to mention it...Care for a cuppa?"

Or I'd whack him first, then live in the Alter-Surrey, and control a monopoly of the plastic cutlery industry.


Lake Dsitrict eh? Any good up there? Never been myself.