Oh no, no. No, I am not your daddy, Dave. This is more serious than that. I did not supply the genetic material that created you, I am responsible for it even existing in the first place! [He reaches his right hand around and attempts to stick it in Dave's face, likely with moderate success given the angle. He's probably ineffectively slapping Dave's cheek like his hand is some kind of brain-dead fish out of water.] With this hand Dave! This hand. You owe your entire existence to this hand.

[And the faithful Dr. Meowgon's butt. Actually, in Dave's case, that kitten's butt is really the one that made him. Not that anybody will ever know this fact, and that's probably a good thing.]

[You owe your existence to your best friend and a cat's backside, Dave. How does this make you feel?]