Most of the guys my mom hung around with were geeks, but there was this one guy - he was kind of cool.
He taught me engines.
Hold here.
Mom screwed it up, of course.
She was always telling him about Judgement Day and me being this world leader.
That'll be all she wrote.
Torque wrench, please.
Here.
I wish I could have met my real dad.
You will.
Yeah, I guess.
When I'm like 45, I think.
I send him back through time to 1984.
Man.
He hasn't even been born yet.
It messes with your head.
The other bolt.
Oh, here.
Mom and him were only together for one night.
She still loves him, I guess. I see her crying sometimes.
She denies it totally, of course. Like she got something stuck in her eye.
Why do you cry?
-You mean people? -Yeah. -I don't know. We just cry.
You know, when it hurts.
Pain causes it?
Uh, no, it's different. It's when there's nothing wrong with you, but you hurt anyway. You get it?
No.
-All right, my man! -No problemo. -Give me five!
Just put out your hand like this, come on.
All right! Now hit me. Give me five do the same thing, do the same thing. All right.
Okay, that's good, that's good. Up high, up high! Five low!
[CHUCKLES] Too slow!
I'm just kidding! Let's try it one more time. Good. Now try it, now try! Good. Now do me.
Give me five.
Watching John with the machine, it was suddenly so clear.
The Terminator would never stop.
It would never leave him.
And it would never hurt him.
Never shout at him or get drunk and hit him or say it was too busy to spend time with him.
It would always be there.
And it would die to protect him.
Of all the would-be fathers who came and went over the years, this thing, this machine, was the only one who measured up.
In an insane world, it was the sanest choice.