A/N: I don't know where I come up with these ideas.

"HEY, HAVE YOU HEARD MY NEW BUSINESS IDEA FOR OUR COMPANY? NO? LET ME WRAP IT UP WITH NICE WORDS LIKE 'SYNERGY' AND 'COALESCE' SO IT SOUNDS LEGITIMATE."

"OH, YEAH? DO YOU BY CHANCE HAVE A TWIZZLER AND AN EMPTY CAN OF SODA? I NEED TO SAVE THIS KID WHO BROKE HIS ARM."

Oh, whoa, whoa. Pull back the reigns. Let's rewind to the beginning of this argument that has seemingly taken Boris's guesthouse kitchen by storm.

OoOoOo

As typical, it was a bright and bustling afternoon. Women were getting their Botox injections, men perfecting their golf swings and teenagers were breaking into their parents' liquor cabinets. Welcome to The Hamptons.

Hank and Evan were sitting down in the immaculate guesthouse's kitchen in their usual poses – Hank standing at the counter, eating oatmeal messily while scanning the newspaper and Evan sitting neatly down at the table eating an omelet and perusing the files on a batch of HankMed clients that had yet to make a retainer.

Evan glanced at his brother, wondering if right then was a good time to spring his idea on Hank about a new type of business venture. It was never a good time for his pain in the ass, I-treat-patients-you-do-everything-else brother, but the morning, when he was in a hurry, was usually the opportune time to approach. He would be in a hurry and frazzled and say something like, "Sure, Ev, go ahead." even if he didn't actually mean it and was too busy rushing out the door to notice.

Hank suddenly looked down at his watch and abandoned his food to reach for his bag.

Time for the kill…

"Hey, Hank?"

Hank looked over at his brother, who was turning in his chair with that patented, I'm-up-to-no-good smile. "Would you mind if I made a HankMed promotional video?"

Hank looked at him like he'd just grown two heads. "Why?"

Evan sipped his orange juice. "It'll attract attention, get us more clients."

Hank inwardly groaned. His brother never failed to go one day without pestering him. "I don't think so."

Evan shoved another forkful of food into his mouth. "Why not?"

"Well, for one, I think we're doing plenty enough already and two…" Hank looked at the food dangling out of his brother's mouth. "That's disgusting. Alright, I'm heading out. I'll be back around noon, okay?"

"But Hank!" Evan leaped out of his chair. "Can't you think about it?"

Hank looked up at the ceiling as if in deep contemplation. "I'm thinking…no! Ev, give it a rest. We've done enough. Just wait."

"Wait. Does that mean…maybe?"

Hank groaned. "We'll talk about this later."

"Really?"

"No."

"What if…what if I guaranteed us ten new clients, at least?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "Don't you think I tend to enough patients as it is?"

"Oh, so this is about you?"

Hank glared at Evan. "You know what, yes, Evan, it is about me. I need to go take care of patients practically the entire day and you just want to add more to the fold?"

Evan crossed his arms defensively. "Are you saying that I don't work as hard as you do?"

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what you've all been waiting for.

"I'm not saying that!" Hank huffed in frustration.

"It sounds like you are."

"Okay, well, yes. Maybe I do work a little harder than you. Half the time I see you, you're watching TV or coming up with new schemes to get us more unnecessary attention."

Evan's jaw dropped. "You don't even know what my job is like!"

"Oh, I don't?" Hank asked sarcastically.

"I have to handle all of our financials, which, yeah, is how you have money in your wallet right now instead of just the expired Buffalo Wild Wings coupon you had a year ago before I landed us this gig!"

"You? You 'landed this gig' all by yourself? Who's the doctor again? If you've forgotten, you're not the only one who does work around here."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot – 'cause I wasn't the one to develop HankMed when you became the unofficial town doctor!"

"It's not a one-person show here, Ev. I think you underestimate what I have to do in a single day."

"Oh, yeah? Give some Hamptons socialites a few checkups and then flirt with Jill the rest of the day?"

PAUSE – now is the part where you, dear reader, picture Hank's best oh-no-you-dizn't face. Got it? Now exaggerate that like ten times.

Hank reared back like his brother had slapped him. "Is that how it is? Okay, you know what? How about this?" and he proceeded to imitate his brother's enthusiastic voice. "Hey, Hank! I know you're really busy with doctor work and spending every single day helping people but if you could just stop and listen to me talk about HankMed's publicity for the six millionth time, that would be great!"

Evan's eyebrows lifted. "Okay, your portrayal of me is one thousand types of wrong. I don't slouch like that – stop making that face!"

"It's my CFO face." Hank retorted.

"Alright, fine." Evan threw the newspaper onto the table. "Hi, I'm Hank, Mr. Big and Impressive Doctor. What's that? You've got some rare blood disease that no one's ever heard of? Let me cure it with a straw and an Oreo!"

Hank rolled his eyes. "An Oreo?"

Evan shrugged.

Hank slouched back into his 'Evan position'. "Hey, Hank, are you sure you told me not to bug Boris? Whoops! I accidently trespassed on his property and saw this secret shark."

Evan threw up his arms. "That's not even…that was an accident!"

"I'm Evan." Hank said. "I'm always making 'accidents'."

"That's how you wanna play, huh?"

"Oh yeah."

"Prepare. To. Be. Defeated." Evan suddenly ripped his jacket off and tossed it onto the floor, then dumped his orange juice onto the counter.

"Uh, what the hell are you doing?" Hank eyed his brother like he'd gone insane.

"Just being messy. I'm a doctor so my complete slobbish behavior is justified by my mad medical skills."

Hank stormed over to Evan's chair, where the HankMed files were laid out and began to look at them intently.

"Uh…what are you doi-"

"Ssh! NO one is allowed to disturb me while I'm doing my work!" Hank said in his best "irritated Evan" voice.

"Oh, cool. I'm just going to take care of the clients, then. Save the day, all that." Evan reached for Hank's bag.

Hank shot out of his chair like a rocket. "No you don't!" he grabbed it and then made his way to the door. He turned around, finger pointing at his brother. "I'll be back. Don't think this is over."

Evan called after him, "CAN'T HANDLE IT, CAN YOU?"

Hank, still walking, yelled, "HEY, HAVE YOU HEARD MY NEW BUSINESS IDEA FOR OUR COMPANY? NO? LET ME WRAP IT UP WITH NICE WORDS LIKE 'SYNERGY' AND 'COALESCE' SO IT SOUNDS LEGITMATE."

Evan fumbled a bit for a retaliation and sputtered, "OH, YEAH? DO YOU BY CHANCE HAVE A TWIZZLER AND AN EMPTY CAN OF SODA? I NEED TO SAVE THIS KID WHO BROKE HIS ARM." He was now outside the door, yelling after Hank, who was getting in his chair.

"Mock resourcefulness all you want – it gets the job done!" Hank shouted and then pulled away.

Suddenly, Divya appeared behind Evan, having taken in the mess in the kitchen and the remarks shouted between the two brothers. "What is going on, Evan?"

Evan turned to her, got into his mock 'professional doctor pose' (tall, ramrod straight, gaze ahead) and said, "Call me Dr. Evan."

He walked away and Divya looked up at the ceiling and said, "You knew what you were doing when you took this job, Divya."

THE END,

YO