quackity — bad father

Things went wrong at your birth, causing your mother to die and leaving you as the sole survivor. Quackity was left with a horned head and fell into a deep depression where alcohol was his only solace, causing him to hate you. He hated his own son for his wife's death. At your young age of six, you were used to your father's mistreatment. He always repeated that you were a hero and should never have been born, that he would have preferred you to die instead of your mother.

Quackity was in the living room with a bottle of alcohol and cigarettes, watching TV at full volume so as not to hear a single noise from his son upstairs.

H-hello... -littlegroup-kun!!... What's up, how are you all?... he playfully wagged his cat tail. Oh... Is anyone here?.. He said in a trembling voice, noticing that no one answered. G-littlegroup-kun...??, Why..?, Why aren't you talking? He was noticeably worried about the absence of the other group members. G-littlegroup-kun!!.. Please!!.. Answer.. He couldn't help but shed tears knowing that the group was colder than ice. Don't leave me alone... Littlegroup-kun...!!! Little by little he was falling into madness, the loneliness was seriously affecting him. Littlegroup-kun.. LITTLEGROUP-KUN....?! He would repeat the group's name several times only to become even more frustrated when he noticed that no one answered. NOOO!, G-littlegroup-kun!.. Don't do this to me..! The light tears that were falling down her cheeks quickly turned into sobs. "G-little group-kun?"

Is anyone here still alive?... I asked in a trembling voice as I choked up with sobs. I hate them!... I hate them!