Son of somebody

All people may be born equal but, in this world, they are certainly not all the same. To believe that the boorish and the gentle are to be treated in the same way you must be blind. This reminds me of a story:

The souk was so crowded that you could easily mistake it for a carpet of beards.

Nasreddin addressed a tall young man next to him:

“May I salute you, young master! Aren’t you by any chance the imam’s nephew?”

“Not at all.”

“The son of the qadi, maybe?”

“Certainly not!”

“One of Timur’s envoys?”

“Nothing of this, my good man.”

"In this case, you, son of an adultery bitch, step off my toe before I hit you right on your stupid nape!”