No. No, look I wasn't scared of you when we were ornery, sassy ten year olds. [He shuffles a little bit away from her now, sensing this is about to go bad for him.]

Like you wouldn't be hella jazzed at the idea of being in command of who bears your wriggling red lobster children. They'd be a zoologist's nightmare and you'd just beam with pride over the corpse of your latest victim of implantation. All smiling and yes, yes my babies eat daddy's flesh and grow strong.