Hank wasn't perfect. God damn him to hell. There were lots of things that Hank was supposed to be, but perfect goes without mentioning. Hank had a head full of hair and a pair of glasses. Glasses? Why? Because his vision needed assistance. Hank wasn't perfect.
Hank had a stain on his shirt. His shirttail seemed incapable of staying tucked. Hank's teeth got yellow. Hank gave in to superficial pressures of social acceptances and got his teeth professionally whitened. They were too white, he looked ridiculous. Hank wasn't perfect.
When Hank got older he got stressed. The stress accelerated his genetic hair loss, which made him look less masculine. Hank wasn't perfect.
Hank tried a drug that was against the law. No doctor's permission slip. No addiction excuse. He did it for fun. He wanted to have fun because he learned fun was great solace from things that were not fun. Most things in Hank's life were not fun. So when fun came around it was hard to turn down. As a result, heavy addiction would join up with Hank years later. Hank wasn't perfect.
Hank married his wife Marvey. He loved her for crying out loud. But one time early on in their marriage Hank slept with a woman with oily skin who was not Marvey. Hank had not arranged for this to be okay with Marvey. He had broken his vow of marriage. But the problem was Hank was under the influence of a drug and a drink. He allowed himself to not think about the self control he knew he was supposed to think about. This oily-skinned woman, with her oily Greek bosoms, was offering herself to Hank and Hank had urges he didn't contain. He felt bad and knew he could never do that again. Many years later he did it again with a different woman. Hank wasn't perfect.
One time Hank saw a man with a different color of skin than he and judged the man based off that alone. He had, implanted in his brain, a small town upbringing, selective advertising, fear-based media influence, and outdated ideals, that lingered from his parents's parenting skills, that caused a knee-jerk reaction and inability to empathize with every man. Hank wasn't perfect.
Hank had a son named Cheef that reminded of him of himself. Because of that upbringing of his, Hank held himself to a high standard he could never reach. The voice of Hank's father's judgement echoed in Hank's every move. As Hank got older, that father voice morphed into his own voice. Every time Hank's son Cheef would try to do something, the voice would come into Hank's head and tell him Cheef was not good enough. Because Cheef was too much like Hank. And we all know that Hank wasn't perfect.
Hank would go around acting like an asshole.
"Look at the way you behave, you're an asshole!"
"What did I do that was assholish?!" Hank would ask.
"You did this, this and this, and this." They would explain.
"Well, I'm not perfect!" Hank would say.
The people talking to Hank were not smart enough to push the conversation beyond their confrontation to anything constructive. Hank's behavior and their condemnation continued. Hank would often use the phrase "I'm not perfect" to excuse his reprehensible behavior. It became a form of flippancy. But Hank wasn't perfect.
As soon as Hank set foot in this world he seemed to be an interceptor for influences of imperfection. For that he should be burned at the stake, but only after being crucified. Hank was so goddamned imperfect.
Now though, in the future, in the year 4320, man does not interact, absorb, influence or participate. It really is the best way. We have not had an incident of imperfection or worry since 4083. I am only recounting this story from a servo-mechanical relay of a surveillance log in the sky that records all activity, and has since the year 1963, when U.S. President John F. Kennedy was removed.
Hank did have a second son though. He was given no name. He sat still in a room, never spoke, experienced anything, or spoke to anyone. He was perfect.