Chapter 7: Uncomfortably Numb

All he could do was let his mind wander and fantasize.

"I bought one vehicle here several years ago, and I was really happy with it. Sold it to my worthless brother-in-law. Boy, was that a mistake. Got stuck tooling around town in my wife's rinky-dink little compact. Hit a guardrail last week- I think I mentioned?- and the thing crumbled. But before that, it had this problem...let me tell you about it…"

The voice of his customer was becoming a relentless drone. He might as well have been a pesky mosquito buzzing around Brian's head. The dog focused on an invisible spot of nothingness over the man's shoulder as he felt himself zoning further and further out.

There was a palm tree in the corner by the door to the dealership. Brian thought about how nice it would be to escape to a beach somewhere, lie on a lounge chair with a margarita...or two...or three. Sunshine and relaxation, like Sean got to have when he was on vacation. Of course, now Sean was on a permanent vacation...at least from the Hummer dealership. Brian wondered if he was any happier now.

"And it went.." The customer was still talking, Brian tuning back in long enough to catch the man contorting his lips grotesquely to flap about like a horse's as he proceeded to make a kind of whinny that made the canine wince. Shrill, but also like the horse had swallowed a bag of gravel. "That kind of a sound," the customer said about the hideous noise, and made it again. "Do you know- "

"Well, um, no, I'm not a mechanic," Brian hurried and interrupted him, forcing a cheerful, half-apologetic smile. "If you want, maybe I can find someone you can consult- "

"No, no, it doesn't matter so much now, does it? I mean, out with the old and in with the new. That crummy little car is gone, anyway. But it goes to show, you need an American car that's built like a brick."

Oh, god, why must all my customers break out this American supremacist stuff? I mean, I suppose I should expect it by now, but still.

Back to the beach.

Brian let his mind drift again. Normally, he'd fantasize about Lois being there with him, just rocking the hell out of a sexy little wet swimsuit, but this time...he was alone.

Heh. Matches how I feel most of the time, anyway.

But in his fantasy, being alone didn't bother him. Right now, it seemed like nothing would put him more at ease than to be able to catch a break in his own little paradise somewhere. Alone with his thoughts and his dreams, and nobody placing any kind of expectations on him, other than himself. He could do whatever he wanted, drink from sunup to sundown, maybe even finish that novel he'd been working on…

He couldn't do either of those things right now, however. To his slight embarrassment, the customer had caught him spacing out, and somewhat sharply prompted him with a question that needed answering. It did, at least, turn out to be an easy sale after that. The man had made up his mind before he ever entered the dealership.

That put him just below his goal for the month. While Brian was a little proud of himself for making what he saw as a very respectable amount of sales, he knew that Paddy, that demanding little troll, still wasn't seeing him as a success, and wouldn't, probably until he was making enough sales to cover both his goal and what the absent Sean's had been, or some other impossible thing.

As if to illustrate his point, Paddy then came walking by, and placed a bobblehead on Brian's desk.

"Uh...what's this, sir?" Brian asked when his boss didn't immediately explain.

"I just saw your sales total move. Since you sold two Hummers today, you earn a prize." He flicked the bobble's head. "It's part of our incentive program for this week, so enjoy. But don't get too cocky! Corporate's still breathing down my neck about sales numbers, and it's- "

"Ah ha ha," Brian laughed halfheartedly, unable to stop himself from making a weak joke. "So what else is new? When is corporate not breathing down your neck, sir? Greedy bastards."

Paddy plainly didn't see, or refused to acknowledge the humor in the situation. Both of his eyebrows shot up. "Pardon me?"

The dog coughed out an awkward chuckle. "Well... just...I'm sure you're sick of it, right? But hey, what's more American than corporate greed?" He held up his paw for a high five, but Paddy, of course, left him hanging.

"I see you're trying to take over from my rotten nephew and be the office smartass now," said Paddy, crossing his arms over his chest. It was amazing how such a little man could be so imposing. His head barely cleared the top of Brian's desk. Of course, Brian was one to talk…

"If you're so eager to imitate that deserter, you'd be better off making up for the loss in sales he cost us when he took off. Less jokes, more work." And with that, the detestable little worm strolled off.

Brian sighed deeply and out loud, feeling like banging his head on his desk. "Fuck you very much," he growled under his breath, and seized the bobble head, contemplating hurling it across his cubicle to its destruction. He looked at his so-called "prize".

"Mr. Hummer." The dog read the figurine's name out loud in a monotone. "Hmm. Wait until I tell my cousin Jasper." He sat the bobble head back down on his desk unharmed but still very much unappreciated.

Is this a dog's fate? Am I doomed to always get the scraps from life, and never anything more satisfying?

The bobble's head jiggled ignorantly from beside the clock, which, thank merciful christ, said that his shift was nearly ended.

"Well, it's getting to be about that time…" Brian reached for the phone and dialed his home number. If Lois didn't answer, then she was out, and it would be Brian's job to pick up Stewie from preschool on his way home. That was the agreement. However, if she did answer, then she may or may not be too busy to get Stewie.

She answered.

"Hello? Brian?"

"Yeah, it's me." He tried his best to inject a note of cheerfulness into his voice. "How've you been, honey?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old. I can go get Stewie, if that's all you wanted."

If that's all I wanted? You know all that I want, Lois, and…

But before he got started down that track of thinking, he allowed himself to process what his wife had just told him, and realized he was disappointed.

"Oh… Okay…"

"See you at home. We're having tuna noodle tonight." And without anything further to say, apparently, Lois hung up the phone.

Brian did likewise, and then stared at it in its cradle. "Well...shit."

He could've used Stewie's company this afternoon. Some of the kid's irreverent attitude would have been a nice contrast to his workday of self-important dickheads taking themselves too seriously.

Not that he wouldn't get to see Stewie later, but the whole family would be around. Chris and Meg with their demands. And Lois, who would either freeze him out, or treat him with the kind of cordial detachment reserved for minor acquaintances.

Sometimes, Stewie seemed like the most self-sufficient and supportive of them all. The goddamned infant of the house.

Of course, Brian knew it was wrong to reduce Stewie to merely being "the infant of the house". That was as unfair as anyone considering Brian to be no more than "the family dog".

He was more than that now than he had ever been before. A husband and a stepfather...no matter how much trouble he was having filling either role.

Brian started to pack up his things for the day. Gathering his briefcase and setting his fedora on his head, he headed over to the time clock to punch out. After he was officially no longer on his company's precious time, he found his Prius looking distinctly out-of-place in the parking lot of the Hummer dealership, and climbed inside.

Time for the lonely drive home to see...my loving family.

Brian's feelings were kind of sunk for the evening, as far as he could tell. He flipped on the radio, moving the dial around in search of a moody rock song to suit his temperament. Nothing emo or anything like that, just maybe something classic…

After searching for a few seconds, he came across the local classic rock station.

"Ah, there we go. Some good ole Floyd."

He turned the volume up, blasting it as he pulled out of the parking lot, losing himself in the hypnotic drone of the music as he proceeded down the street.

"Come on, now.

I hear you're feeling down.

Well, I can ease your pain,

And get you on your feet again. "

He reached the point where he would have turned to go to Stewie's school. Through the fog of ennui that Pink Floyd had brought about to soothe the frustrations of the workday, he once again felt a bit let down.

Oh, well. It's not like the kid's going to be happy to see Lois, but he'll deal. I'm sure I'm not exactly Father of the Year to him yet, or anything.

It was hard to be a parent to Stewie. That was the thing. It was no doubt difficult for Lois, too, when the child acted up, which he did frequently, due to his irrational hatred of her. Brian faced a unique challenge, though. It wasn't just stepping in as "stepdoggy" as Stewie sometimes mockingly called him. It was stepping in as someone who had previously, predominantly, been the baby's..friend.

And you know what? I think I still want to predominantly be his friend. It's not like he actually needs parents all that much, anyway, right?

Brian was, frankly, shocked at the turn his thoughts had taken.

What? No. That's not true. He's still helpless in a lot of ways.

The canine shook his head. He was overtired and having nonsense thoughts. Yes, Stewie was a genius baby, but he wasn't an adult, and he'd gotten to a pathetic place if he was going to pine for a baby's company in every low moment. No doubt, finding the proper balanced approach he needed to take with the kid would be an ongoing struggle.

Having acknowledged that, he allowed himself to once again get lost in the music and tune out of his worries.

"There is no pain, you are receding. "

"Brian!"

"Brian!"

He walked through the door, and first Meg, then Chris, bolted up off the couch and rushed over to him.

"Brian! I found this recipe- " Meg held the cookbook in her hand and practically waved it in the dog's face, before Chris cut her off, shoving her aside and shouting,

"Brian, I need your help with something!"
"Hey, I was here first, Chris, back off!"

"In a minute, kids!" Brian raised his voice enough to talk over them, but tried his best not to sound annoyed. "Can I get to the kitchen first? I really need...I'm really thirsty."

"Mom's always thirsty when she gets home, too!" cried Chris, unhelpfully not getting out of his way. Brian sidestepped his large stepson and then his stepdaughter, and made his way across the room and then into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator and took out a Pawtucket Ale. He twisted the top off and took a long sip. An ole bottle of suds. At least he could come home to this.

As far as beer went, he liked it, but this wouldn't even be his first choice. He'd always drank it because Peter did, and after Peter passed...Lois just continued to buy it. Practically every shopping trip. She didn't even seem crazy about it herself, so maybe it was there because Brian was expected to pick up the habit. Well, more than he ever did.

He heard the kids start to cry out again in the living room, and between their plaintive exclamations, he pinched the skin between his eyes and prepared to head back in there and delve further into his home responsibilities. However, before he could take a step away from the fridge, he realized they weren't currently demanding attention from him, but from Lois, who had just come in the front door.

She dismissed their pleas much as he had, and soon entered the kitchen with Stewie in her arms.

She looked a little brighter-eyed today, and didn't even greet him with a frown, and Brian couldn't help it. His tail started wagging. Stewie, on the other hand, did look rather grumpy, but that was to be expected, given who'd picked him up from preschool. Brian was happy to see the baby, as well as his wife, and smiled warmly at the two of them.

"Hey, guys! What a sight for sore eyes, after a long day!"

"Hi, Brian," said Lois, while Stewie mimed a sarcastic little wave, knowing he wouldn't be given an opportunity to talk. "Everything going good?"

The canine shrugged. "Oh, fine, fine. My boss is a jackass, but I knew that from the start."

"Oh, no," Lois crooned sympathetically. "I hope he hasn't been giving you too hard of a time." But before Brian could go on about his day, she had gone and changed the subject. "Bonnie came over today and had coffee. We hadn't been able to do that for awhile. We had a really nice time. It's like things went right back to being normal... Between us, I mean. I told her she should come over after dinner, and we'd have a glass of wine and visit."

"Isn't she still pregnant with that kid?" Brian asked, brow furrowed.

"More preggo than spaghetti sauce," Stewie chimed in.

"It's one glass of wine, Brian," Lois said, deadpan, daring him to say anything further.

Brian really, really doubted it would only be one glass of wine, but frankly, didn't care enough to argue. "So...okay. She'll be stopping by around 7, 7:30?"

Lois nodded. "And I'm gonna start dinner right now." She looked to the infant in her arms. "Do you wanna take Stewie upstairs while I do that?"

"Sure," Brian agreed with a shrug, and his wife bent down and passed the sulky child to him. While she was kneeling down to his height, Brian took the opportunity to press a kiss to her cheek. She smiled at him slightly and patted his head before standing again.

The dog took the baby through to the living room, where Meg and Chris immediately accosted him again.

"Brian, my recipe- " Meg started, but Brian stopped her.

"Your mom's doing dinner tonight, Meg. You can go ask her if she needs any help. We'll do your dish tomorrow. I'll help."

Chris burst out with, in the usual frantic manner he adopted when he needed something, "Brian, I have a really big pimple on my left butt- "

"Alright!" Brian quickly shouted over him, cringing at the mental image, while Stewie shuddered and yelled,

"Uuuggghhh! So much for dinner!"

"It's just a pimple, Chris," Brian told his elder stepson. Boy, being a parent really does mean helping with things you'd definitely rather not help with . "It'll, uh, probably go away on its own, but why don't you, er, take a shower tonight, and then put some acne cream on it, if you have some."

"I can borrow some from Meg," Chris declared confidently, while jabbing his sister in the ribs with a pudgy finger. "She buys hers in bulk." He laughed hysterically at his own joke.

Meg gasped in offense and slapped his hand away. "Oh, yeah? You gonna borrow a bra from me, too, fatass?" She poked him sharply in the chest. "I'd say you're a B cup already."

"At least I have titties!" Chris shrieked.

"Oh, dear lord…" Stewie muttered, facepalming. " Zing , Chris."

"Chris, don't say titties," Brian scolded without conviction, already on his way toward the stairs. He'd had enough of this. He left the teens to squabble on their own, and all the way up the steps, he could hear them exchanging potshots with each other.

He got Stewie to his room, and shut the door behind them. Stewie had already begun to squirm as soon as Brian crossed the threshold, so the canine let the child down right away. He watched as Stewie proceeded to stand there awkwardly, like a host unsure of what to do with a guest in his personal domain.

"So...uh...work sucked today?" the boy finally asked, and Brian was surprised, but a little flattered, that he was actually being given an invitation to vent further.

Now that he had it, however, he found he didn't feel like dwelling...much.

"It kinda always does," the dog chuckled wryly, scratching behind his neck. "It's just that Paddy- that's my boss- seems to expect me to do the work of two people, now that Sean's left."

Stewie nodded as though in understanding. "Oh…" The child paused for a second, eyes focused on the ground before looking back up again. "Well...don't let him work you too hard..."

They locked eyes, but only for a moment., before Stewie trained his eyes back on the ground. The dog had to smile to himself, appreciating the sincerity that must be making the usually flippant child feel awkward.

"Thanks, Stewie. I'll try not to."

A silence settled on them, and suddenly Brian himself was feeling a bit awkward. Falling back on the social niceties, he decided he might as well return the favor, and asked his littlest stepchild,

"How was preschool today, Kid?"

Stewie looked back up at him and shrugged. "Oh, you know. More insults to my intelligence by forcing me to sit in a circle and sing the Barney song and then listen to a stimulating lecture on the different days of the week. Did you know this is Monday, Brian?" He widened his eyes as though fascinated. "Because I sure didn't!"

Brian snorted. "Trust me, I definitely knew it was Monday."

"And it's one out of seven days!" Stewie went on, throwing up his hands like he couldn't even deal with his 'newfound' knowledge. "Whaaaaaaat?!" He slapped his hands against his cheeks like the Home Alone kid.

The dog couldn't help but laugh. "You're blowing my mind with all this, Stewie. They're really laying some advanced knowledge on you kids, huh?"

Stewie grinned. "What can I say? They must think we're really good at using our noodles to give us these lessons so early on."

"School's certainly more difficult now than when I went."

"Oh, yeah? And where did you go to school when you were a puppy, Brian? St. Rover's School for Gifted Little Mutts?" The baby smirked.

"Well, I was certainly gifted," Brian said, smiling proudly. "I mean, I can talk."

"And work at a Hummer Dealership," Stewie snarked, though more playfully than contemptuously.

Inside, Brian felt a genuine pang of sadness. "Ouch", was all he said, smile not faltering.

Silence again, though it was brief as Brian decided to suddenly change the subject.

"Well, anyway, what have you been getting up to recently? I haven't seen too much of you over the last several days, not since we went to the museum about a week ago."

The child's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Oh, you know, I keep fairly busy. Inventions to design. Places to go. People to see."

Stewie chuckled. Brian's eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Going where? Seeing who?"

The infant rolled his eyes and batted his hand.

"Oh, jeez. It's just an expression, Bry. I assure you my life is quite dull most of the time. No need to be so possessive."

A pause.

"I mean protective! No need to be so protective. I can take care of myself, Stepdoggy."

"Um, okay." Brian didn't know how to take the toddler's panicky outburst, but brushed it off. There were many things Stewie did that Brian didn't understand. "You can't blame me for asking, though. Kinda my job. Plus...well, I would hate it if anything ever happened to you." The dog went for a casual shrug, but was feeling curiously self-conscious, and knew the gesture probably came across as such. "I mean...you can be a little pain in the ass, but I'd miss you, kid."

Stewie looked at him with an inscrutable expression, but the little 'o' his mouth momentarily formed seemed to express surprise. Then, his expression changed to at least somewhat pleased, as he smiled a small smile.

"I don't think a stepfather is supposed to call his stepchild a pain in the ass."

Though I'm sure plenty of them do , thought Brian to himself. Out loud, he said, "The rules are different for stepdoggies." He pulled a dry expression.

The boy only blinked at him in response at first. Then,

"I see. Well. I may need a copy of this rule book for stepdoggies, as it seems the guidelines have the potential to be rather complicated. I would've thought, though, that your situation was maybe a bit too unique for you to have forebearers who would've seen the merit in authoring such a book. And yet I know yours wasn't the paw that held the pen. You don't finish books, do you, Brian?" He finished matter-of-factly, despite the inquisitive head tilt.

"I...I finish reading them…" The words were out of Brian's mouth before he could resolve not to say anything pathetic. He shook his head resignedly, figuring he'd wasted enough time upstairs. "You know I'm making this up as I go along, Stewie." He took a step toward the door. Then, a sudden impulse had him reversing his course and going toward Stewie instead.

He dropped a kiss on top of the child's head. Because it felt like the stepdoggy-type thing to do.

The canine turned, then, and started again for the door. He looked back before he left, and caught sight of Stewie, now standing over by his bookshelf, taking down the coloring book from the children's museum.

Brian sat bent over his cup of coffee in the kitchen, listening to the activity in the next room.

Dinner had been a non-event, pretty much the same as always, with nobody seeming to have much interest in what was going on with him, but with Chris and Meg interested in his capacity to give permission for certain things. However large that capacity was. He again tried to lobby for Meg acquiring ownership of Peter's car, and was briskly put in his place by Lois. However, he was successful in giving Chris an hour past bedtime to watch a movie he really wanted to see.

Apart from going frigid during the car discussion, Lois was actually a little more...lively at dinner, than she usually was. She talked about taking the kids back-to-school shopping and about a soap she'd watched that day. She even let Brian hold her hand for a short time, and didn't have a drop of alcohol to drink.

Of course, that had since changed.

The raucous laughter in the next room was starting to grate on his nerves. Brian was pretty sure they were more than one glass in. They'd been giggling like a couple of vacuous sorority girls (and he should know; he'd dated a few) for almost two hours now. With nothing much to do, he'd come down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and to try and read a book. It beat sitting in the living room with his wife while she was getting hammered with her friend, and Brian no longer liked to spend much time in their shared bedroom when he wasn't sleeping.

It was almost impossible to concentrate on his book, however, and he wondered how much longer Bonnie was planning on staying.

A part of him was glad that Lois seemed happier and more carefree than she had in a long time. But a bigger part of him just wished she would shut the hell up.

When would he be within his rights to go and ask them to keep it down, because he had work the next day?

He shut his book, seeing no point in making any further effort with it. Almost as if on cue, he then heard Lois hollering for him, her speech slurred slightly.

"Hey! Hey! Briiiaaan! Where's my dog husband?"

Brian frowned and hopped off his chair. He made his way to the living room to find the women lounging around on the couch.

"Yeah? Lois, you needed something?" He attempted to keep at least some of his annoyance out of his voice. "Boy, it's…" He checked his watch. "It's getting kinda late, isn't it?"

"Only for b-b-babies and squares!" Lois sputtered with laughter. "But t-that's why I need ya to go and put Stewie to bed."

Brian gave a beleaguered nod. "Uh...sure. Sure, Lois. But, listen...I have work in the morning…"

Lois's words completely blew past Brian's remark. "Brian. Birian. Can we- can we talk later? Bonnie was in the middle of the most amazing story."

"So l-l-like I was saying," Bonnie began to recount, "at first I was rweally skeptical about onliline dating. But after my niiiight with Pedro, whoooo, lemme tell you!" And she lifted her glass in a toast while hooting with laughter.

Lois joined in, which rankled Brian all the more, although he couldn't totally explain why.

Bonnie went on: "His body was like- "

But Brian interrupted. "Yeah, and what about your body, Bonnie? Are pregnant chicks, like, his fetish or something?" He suddenly snapped without thinking.

"Brian!" Lois gasped, looking furious at him. Bonnie looked pretty angry, too, before her eyes welled with tears that Brian would bet on being either of the crocodile variety, or due to her intoxicated state.

"I just feel so terrible that my child will never know their father!" Bonnie sobbed, laying a hand on her stomach for emphasis, while Lois leaned over to wrap an arm around her.

"What?! What does that have to do with anything?" Brian exploded, throwing his hands in the air, at a loss to make sense of this situation that was going from bad to worse with shocking rapidity. "God! I tell you- I tell you… Women! Women, man!"

"What is that s-s-susposed to mean?" Lois demanded, while Bonnie continued to cry obnoxiously.

"Nothing." Brian shook his head, giving up on this particular social interaction and deciding to call it a night. With any luck, he'd successfully broken up the party. Even if he had gotten his wife pissed at him. "Nothing at all. I'm going to go put Stewie to sleep now. Goodnight."

He stomped up the stairs, his mind troubled and his mood sore. He didn't care that he'd ruined Lois's good time, no matter how wrong that may be. He needed just one harmonious evening, dammit, was that too much to ask?! He hadn't had a good time in forever, either, and certainly it wasn't unfair to expect his own wife to help him with that, at least a little. In any case, she shouldn't actively be making his evenings worse , not when he had to spend his days toiling away at a business that violated his ideals.

And getting no respect for it, at that.

He sure as hell wasn't going to feel bad for upsetting Bonnie, who was over here telling tales to his wife about sleeping around with himbos. Brian's paws reflexively formed fists at his sides as he neared the top of the steps.

Tramp. Like you can just go out and replace a husband with the nearest-

But that train of thought was uncomfortable, and he stopped it dead, as his stomach gave a lurch, as though in disgust. Just what exactly it was disgusted with, however…

The dog reached Stewie's door, which was closed. He realized he was breathing rather heavily, and took a few seconds to calm down before he put his paw on the doorknob and let himself in. He discovered the baby sitting on the floor, in front of a dollhouse with an array of plastic dolls surrounding him. Stewie was already dressed in pajamas, which Lois had put him into after dinner.

The child appeared to be making two of the dolls have a conversation with each other, but Brian didn't get to catch any of it before Stewie noticed his entrance.

"Good evening, Brian. Rude of you not to knock," the tyke scolded blithely, and stood up from the floor. "Did the shrew send you up here? Couldn't be bothered whilst in the midst of her drunken capers?"

Brian could've corrected Stewie's disrespectful attitude, but chose not to bother. Instead, he just agreed, in a vague way. "She's...yeah. Rather, uh, preoccupied."

"Those two broads down there seem to think like they're in an episode of Sex and the City , from the sound of it," Stewie commented.

"Did you actually hear what they were talking about?" asked Brian, feeling like he should probably show some concern about that.

"Not much, no," replied the infant, yawning and reaching his arms up above his head in a stretch. He lowered them and looked at Brian. "Something about 'big ones'. That's all I heard. Definitely not as entertaining as Sex and the City ."

Brian felt a hint of heat rush to his face.

"I think perhaps they were casting spells. I also heard plenty of hag-like cackling. Are they in the throes of some kind of supernatural transport?"

"Something like that," the canine ceded wryly. Despite himself, he couldn't hold back a smirk at Stewie's witchy remarks about Lois.

"Oh, well. As long as they leave me out of it. Wouldn't want them using me as a virgin sacrifice in an effort to reclaim their long-lost youth."

Was it just Brian, or did Stewie squirm a little bit after uttering that quip, like he, too, was sharing in the slight, inexplicable feeling of awkwardness the canine felt in that moment?

"Or something," Stewie added hastily.

"I'm not getting involved in their antics, either," said the dog. "I really just wanted a quiet evening at home, and I got, well...this. I can't wait to go to bed. Speaking of which- "

"Yeah, I know, I know," said Stewie, as Brian approached. The dog picked up his stepson, who gasped out loud.

Brian raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"N-nothing. You just picked me up really fast, that's all."

He carried the boy over to his crib to get him situated for bed.

Brian placed Stewie down on the mattress and pulled the blanket up around him. The two exchanged a smile.

"Goodnight, Kid," Brian said.

"Goodnight, Brian." Stewie had his fingers knitted together above the blanket. "I...hope you can get some good shuteye tonight." He wrung his hands together and looked away from the canine. "You did sound pretty upset before. When you were downstairs."

"Ah. Yet something else that you heard." Back when Brian was fully committed to being Parenting Manual Brian, he would have wondered if he should feel guilty about Stewie overhearing him having a disagreement with Lois. As indeed he had worried before. But now, he only gave it the most fleeting of thoughts. He was simply too tired.

"Just the general tone of your voice," said the infant with a shrug.

Brian shrugged back. "Like I said...not what I had in mind for the evening. But thanks. For wishing me a good sleep."

The child broke eye contact with him again. He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well… You know." He broke out in another yawn, through which he spoke a few more words. "Someone's gotta look out for you."

Brian's tail wagged in response. "That's how you feel, huh?"

Stewie rolled over, putting his back to Brian, as he apparently was about to drift off to sleep. "After all, you take such awfully good care of us, stepdoggy."

Before Brian left Stewie to his dreams, he leaned over the infant and placed a goodnight kiss on the child's cheek, somewhere near his ear. Stewie made a restless little movement which made the dog think that if the boy was still conscious, it was just barely.

It didn't matter, though. Something told him that Stewie received the show of affection with pleasure, and it made Brian feel glad. The two of them had come quite a long way. Stewie had probably been the most pleasant part of his day today. And it was nice to be able to express that he cared for the child. Even just being able to carry him to bed. Anymore, Brian felt like he hardly ever got to feel close to anyone, to feel any true affection. No one seemed to really care about what was going on with him...except for Stewie.

Stewie made him feel good. He'd been downright considerate tonight, and that moment when the boy had wished him goodnight had been a real moment of connection that warmed Brian's heart. Even when things were at their hardest, when Brian felt at his worst, in this moment, he knew that all he had to do was look at this special boy to know that all his trouble was worth it. He really did love this kid.

A wave of emotion washed over the canine, and he shook ever so slightly before showing himself out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

It was his intention, at first, to go to bed. Hadn't he just been complaining about being done in for the day? However, as he passed the top of the stairs, it occurred to him to listen for any sounds coming from down below. He perked up his ears and listened hard, but he didn't hear anything that suggested that Lois's visitor was still around, or indeed, that even she was still hanging out downstairs alone.

Brian moved quietly to the master bedroom door. He found it unlocked, which was his first clue that Lois had been inside. If he needed further confirmation, though, he found it when he opened the door a sliver and saw her lying atop the covers on her bed, still in her clothes, mouth open and snoring.

Brian leaned against the doorframe, debating for a moment, before easing the door shut again and turning toward the stairs.

The dog walked down to the main floor, and from there, headed over to the basement steps. He was in need of some alone time, of a very particular kind. After having his job chew his ass all day, and then coming home to Lois's shenanigans, he was sorely in need of an outlet to relieve some stress. And only one thing would do.

Finding his way into the basement, Brian sought a box full of disregarded books and magazines that had likely been dumped down there sometime before he even joined the family. That didn't mean there wasn't a use for at least some of them, however. Some of them might even be on the newer side, since Brian knew that it had been Peter's habit to stash his skin mags down here. The dog set to pawing through the more innocuous reading material to find the girly magazines at the bottom.

It didn't take long to find the large stash of porn hidden away. It took even less time for Brian to find a magazine that looked appealing to him. He picked it up and headed for the couch. He hadn't sat down with a good dirty magazine in months. He'd pretty much been using his imagination down here, his mind usually wandering to thoughts of Lois, but...she wasn't exactly the person he wanted to get off to tonight. Nothing wrong with that, though. It was just porn. And, it wasn't like Lois actually ever helped him with such matters, anyway. Most men would have probably strayed by now, found comfort in the arms of another, but not Brian. He was better than that. He valued this marriage too much. The porn would do just fine.

With that thought, he took a seat on the couch and opened the magazine.

Nice.

Brian punched the time clock in lieu of punching Paddy in the face.

Another day, another dollar, another opportunity to be devalued and run the fuck over his beliefs by pushing these planet-destroying Hummers...then back up and do it again.

Today, the dealership had held a special promotional event, during which Brian had been expected to run around and basically be in charge of everything. Cook free hotdogs for the customers, hand out balloons to their ill-behaved children...oh, and try to sell cars. That, too. Plus, stand in front of the dealership twirling a sign advertising the sale, after which Paddy had suggested that they maybe needed a mascot, who Brian could play regularly.

"You could just be yourself. A dog. People love dogs."

Brian had smiled through gritted teeth at this and responded, "Well, if I'm being myself, sir, that presents a problem. I am not a sales gimmick. Dogs are living creatures with-"

"Or a leprechaun. Maybe you could be a dog leprechaun," Paddy had proposed, ignoring him. "We'll circle back around to this discussion at a later date. Now, that skinhead over by the grill looks hungry. Get him a hotdog."

Thank god the day was over. Brian wiped his brow and stomped his way out of the dealership. He had better places to be.

It was his turn to pick up Stewie, so the dog climbed into his Prius (noting before he did that the outside was a little dirty, and either one of his charming coworkers or a customer had written "pansy" in the dirt), and started the car.

"Well, looks like I need to wash this car," he muttered under his breath while driving out of the parking lot.

When he reached Stewie's preschool, he could see that the child was already standing outside, waiting for his ride. Brian reached the front of the pick-up line, and Stewie raced over to the car and pulled open the door. The dog got the baby buckled into his carseat and gave a wave of acknowledgement to the preschool teacher before driving off. By now, the staff of Stewie's school was quite used to seeing Brian. They probably were before Brian even became his stepfather, come to think about it.

"How was your day, kid?" Brian questioned as they drove along.

"Oh, please let's not go through this rigmarole of social niceties," Stewie sighed, dismissing the subject with an air of supreme indifference. "Can't we ever talk about anything pleasanter than how we spend our weekdays?"

Brian snorted. "I hear ya. Actually, since I have to work some weekends, I'd say I'm in even greater need of forgetting about how I spend my daytime hours." Well, of course he was, and Stewie was honestly a little silly to gripe as much as he did, but Brian had resolved to treat his complaints more seriously from now on, if only to promote a good relationship between them. Now, on a different note…

Just then, a thought came to him, triggered by his own choice of phrasing. "Forgetting" how he spent his days. What did he used to do about that? He hadn't been to The Clam in a good, long while…

For now, all he could say was, "Today, we had this free picnic going on outside for potential customers. I'm telling you, they had me running around kissing so much butt, my lips should be sore. I can't exactly push those Ozone-depleting death machines on the ignorant population if I have to play like I'm...like, their daddy or something, at the same time, getting them hotdogs… Stewie, are you okay?"

Stewie was looking at him with a peculiar, almost stricken expression.

"Uhhh…. Yeah. Yeah. Totally. What- what were you saying about hot...dogs?"

"Hotdogs? Yeah, we were giving away hotdogs, and I had to go around making sure everyone had one. Spacing out a little there, Stewie?"

The boy looked away, and after a moment, gave a characteristic nonchalant shrug. "A great mind is a busy one, Bry. Forgive me if I wasn't listening in rapture. It's nothing personal."

They stopped at a red light, and the car next to them started honking at them. Brian recognized one of Carter's luxury cars just before the window rolled down and his father-in-law's head popped out. "Hey, you pansy!" He was chuckling so much, he could barely get his 'witticisms' out. "How ya doing, you pansy?"

Brian lifted a paw weakly in greeting. "Hiiii, Carter," he half-groaned out. "Yeah, I know what my car says. I'm going to wash it- "

"Oh! Oh! Yeah, definitely. Gotta, gotta...get some water. Water, to, uh, put the pansy in. Because pansies need water. You…" As Carter meandered through the intended insult, he seemed to become aware that he was failing at zinging his son-in-law. "You have to- "

"Is he having a stroke?" wondered Stewie from the passenger seat.

"No telling," replied Brian, as Carter rolled up his window and then sped ahead of them the second the light turned green.

"So," began Stewie conversationally after an interlude of several seconds, "you're a pansy now?"

"Shut up, Stewie," Brian grumbled. Then, remembering that he possibly wasn't supposed to tell his stepchild to shut up, he decided to turn this into an educational opportunity. "It's not a very nice thing to do, to call someone a pansy. Besides, you don't even know what it means, do you? You also shouldn't use words you don't know the meaning of."

"Oh, look at Miss Congeniality over here, thinking I'm interested in learning about being nice," Stewie cooed sarcastically. "My preschool already tried their best with that one, thank you very much. And as for your second point...follow your own advice."

Brian looked at the child askance. "My own advice?"

"Wasn't it just last week that you mixed up anathema and antithesis?" Stewie regarded him with teasing smugness.

Brian felt his face heat up, which, fortunately, Stewie couldn't see on account of the fur, but the canine still cursed himself for losing his cool, because when he didn't immediately respond to the boy's (accurate) claim, he knew that would be enough for the child to sense his discomfort.

The baby laughed evilly, and Brian once again forgot himself and retorted,

"Shut up, Stewie. Shit! Whoops. I mean… Uh." He slapped a palm against his forehead and groaned. "Sorry. I was just trying to say, everybody makes mistakes…"

"Mmmm," Stewie hummed placidly. "Especially you."

"Lois, I just put Stewie to bed. I'm heading out for a bit, shouldn't be gone too long."

The red-headed woman eyed him curiously for only a brief second before shrugging.

"Alright."

Most husbands would have appreciated the brief, unobtrusive response, but Brian honestly found it a little annoying.

Not even going to ask where I'm going. What a surprise…

No other words were exchanged as Brian exited the house and drove off in his car. He was heading for The Drunken Clam. His little thought from earlier had brought on an urge to get away to his favorite bar. A drink was nice, but a drink at The Clam was nicer. He could use some time away from home that didn't involve work or being with family, anyway. The only real alone time he'd had recently had been...well, in the basement, and that couldn't exactly be the healthiest thing in the world, right? No, a trip out by himself every now and then might actually end up doing wonders for his morale, which he knew was at an all-time low, right now.

A smile graced his features as he parked on the side of the road next to the bar. He hopped out of his Prius and briskly made his way inside. A familiar voice greeted him almost instantly.

"Hey, ya ole boozehound! I was afraid ya went to rehab or somethin'!"

The dog's tail wagged as he took a seat at the bar and responded to his favorite bartender with a laugh.

"Hey, good to see you too, Horace."

Horace started fixing Brian's usual, which an expert like him could do in no time flat. "So where ya been, Brian?" He slid Brian's martini across the bar to him.

"I, uh, I got married."

Brian took a sip of his drink and fought back the urge to release a pleasured sigh. God, he missed this…

"Well, I knew that. Everyone in town knows about the broad who married her dog."

Brian almost choked on his next sip at hearing that. A brief fit of coughing sounded throughout the bar before the dog was able to speak again.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to stop coming around, didn't stop Peter none."

The dog chose to ignore the bit about Peter as he replied.

"Just been...adjusting. Getting adjusted to the new...arrangement. Is all."

Horace nodded.

"So, what else have you been up to besides banging your buddy's widow? Her kids taking kindly to ya?"

Brian was able to avoid choking again but was still taken a little aback. He hadn't talked to Horace in forever. He'd forgotten just how...brash the man could be.

"Oh, uh, the kids… The kids seem to be handling things pretty well… I had a little trouble with the youngest, at first, but he's...coming around, I think."

Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and a voice asking,

"Brian, is that you? Imagine meeting you here."

He knew that voice. The dog rotated on his bar stool until he was looking at his former co-worker, Sean, who was grinning at him lopsidedly, a beer in his hand.

"This used to be one of Brian's old haunts," Horace broke in, cleaning a beer stein with a rag. "Until he ditched us to go play hubby."

"Hey, now, I didn't ditch you, Horace," Brian objected, slowly but surely adopting the hale fellow well met demeanor that so often came over him when he was at the bar. "Just taking a little break. I'm here now, and I'll be here again. Sooner rather than later."

"Hells yeah!" Sean cheered, claiming a seat next to Brian's. "Next round is on me. You know I've been coming here for the past couple weeks?"

"Practically been living here," Horace added.

Sean let out a loud but seemingly-forced chuckle. "Ahahaha, no! No, no, no, it hasn't been that bad. You'll, uh, you'll give Brian the wrong idea, buddy." He reached over and punched Horace lightly on the forearm.

The barkeep looked at Sean, shrugged, spit on his cleaning rag, and moved to the other end of the counter.

Brian sipped his martini. "So what's new, Sean? Where ya working now?"

Sean shifted on the barstool and glanced away, shoving a disheveled chunk of hair out of his eyes. "Well, I'm...I'm working on enjoying life, Brian, I'll tell you that. It's som-something people don't do enough of." He held his glass aloft for a toast. "To happiness, wherever we may find it."

The canine obliged and tried to think of a response that wouldn't make things more awkward.

"It's, uh, it's good you've been enjoying yourself more since you left, Sean."

"Are you kidding?" Sean replied. "How could I not? I'm not working for my uncle anymore. Man, the guy's...the guy's a total, total dick weasel."

Draining his drink, Brian nodded his head firmly.

"Mmm."

He swallowed.

"Ain't that the truth."

Sean laughed.

"Ha! Knew you couldn't stand him! The man has no respect for his employees and yet expects miracles from them. You can't… You can't treat people like that…"

Brian wasn't sure how to respond to this moment of sincerity. He remembered when he first met Sean during his first day at work and how he was so sure he had him pegged as your stereotypical douchebag. Looking back made him feel guilty. Sean had his annoying moments, but there was a good guy there. He'd certainly proven that, and now, here his former co-worker was, opening up to him. He could either choose to brush the subject aside or indulge the man. It didn't take long to decide.

"Bring another one around, Horace."

In no time flat, another martini was in the dog's paw. He turned back to finally address Sean again.

"Yeah. That's just bosses for you, I guess. Some people let authority go right to their head. What are you going to do?"

Sean took a swig of beer and shrugged while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's...that's the question, isn't it? The sky's the limit. The world is my oyster." Abruptly, he frowned, and slowly sat the drink down on the bar. "Uhhh...to tell you the truth, man, I am getting a little worried. I could, like, g-get another job, I suppose, but...Bry Dog? C-can I call you that? I saw it on your license plate."

Brian wasn't sure if he wanted Sean calling him that. "Uh…"

Sean cut across him, seemingly too eager to go on baring his soul to wait for an answer. "I have… My motivation is shot, alright? I-I-I've just been feeling like I need to take care of me . You feel me? After working for that sawed off leprechaun for years because my parents thought it would- would be a good idea… And of course, after what Ellie did to me."

Brian felt awkward. Things were getting a little personal, but he didn't want to just wave Sean off. He signaled for another drink.

"Oh. Ellie. That was your ex-wife, right?"

Sean's shoulders sagged. "Yeah. That's her." He dejectedly ran a finger around the rim of his beer glass while staring into its depth. "She...she did me in good, I'll- I'll tell you."

"What...exactly happened between you two?" Brian asked, while Horace poured their refills and looked briefly with a stolid expression at yet another man spilling his guts all over the bar.

"She, uh...she cheat or something?" Brian went on, since it seemed like Sean was placing the blame on this 'Ellie' for the marriage's end.

He was surprised when, for a few seconds, Sean actually looked like he wanted to challenge Brian to a fight or something for suggesting this. "What? No, man! She w-w-wouldn't do that! She's an angel, a freakin' angel! ...I hate her. I mean...I love her…"

The air in the bar turned cold, at least that's how it seemed to Brian.

"Sooooo… What happened, then?"

Sean downed his drink in a large gulp. "You wanna know what happened?" He looked Brian square in the eye. "I wish I knew. Somedays, I t-think she was too good for me. Other days...I think s-s-she overeacteded. There was...there was a lot going on, Bry Dog. W-we're very different people, me and Ellie. Well, one- one thing… She thought I spent too much t-time and energy on that s-s-soul-sucking job. And once I called her sister a bitch. B-but she was , man! And this- this chick...she'd sit all up in our apart-apartment 'til aaallll hours of the morning, crying about her ex-boyfriends, and, l-l-like...scwapbooking and shit. And tried to talk crap about me to Ellie. And Ellie, like...she's so briiilliant, you know? She was a real Reh-en-ais-sance woman, right? S-she had all these..these, like, interests that I-I...I never paid attention to them, Bry Dog."

By this point, Sean was growing teary, and Brian was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Should he pat Sean on the shoulder or something?

Sean started repeatedly snapping his fingers while moving his wrist around in a circle, apparently trying to signal Horace in one of the most obnoxious ways possible.

"S-so-oh, long story short, I guess they'd say we grew apart. But...I-I don't know. I think w-w-we just made a terr-bl mistake when we broke up."

Horace refilled the practically crying man's glass, a small groan emanating from under his breath. Brian didn't know what to say, so after a bit, he leaned over and settled on patting Sean's shoulder, after all.

"Uh… Look, hey, that really… really sucks, man. Sorry."

Sean was plainly trying not to let his emotions totally overpower him, and so sniffled several times in quick succession. (And loudly. And disgustingly.) Finally, scrubbing at his eyes, he regained some sense of composure, sighing deeply. He drank from his stein again.

"I miss her, man. Her b-beautiful mind, her beaughtiful heart, her sense of humor...her body…"

Brian's eyes widened slightly.

"L-l-lemme me tell you," Sean leaned in conspiratorially. "In bed, she'd get so crazy. This one time…"

"That's, that's alright, Sean!" Brian spoke out loudly, talking over him, almost desperately trying to make him stop. He chuckled nervously.

Sean chuckled too, but wryly. "Ah. Well. You're r-right. Lessst...let's change the subject. I don't need sympathy from the happy newlywed."

Brian's stomach lurched. He finished off his latest glass.

"Yeah… Uh, happy…"

Unfortunately for Brian, his drinking companion exhibited more insightfulness than Brian would've credited even a sober Sean with possessing. He looked at Brian curiously.

"Oh. Trouble in paradise?"

Paradise... Yeah, right. If it was mostly a paradise, I would gladly put up with the moments, the days, when it wasn't. But to be perfectly honest, it's more like being exiled to a leper colony.

Hmmm… That works in a couple of ways. Not only because it's so often difficult, but because it's kinda like I'm alone in this marriage, and Lois doesn't want to have anything to do with me.

I'll have to save that metaphor for my writing.

Apart from congratulating himself on his creativity, however, Brian did find a slightly sad mood come over him. He sighed and immediately felt a hand slapping him on the shoulder...hard.

"Hey, Bry Dog. Ya in'der? S-s-Suuup, man?"

Brian tried to hide his wincing as he shrugged his now sore shoulder. He finished his latest glass and slammed it down on the counter.

"Things aren't exactly...clicking with me and Lois…"

He paused briefly before deciding he might as well continue.

"Like, I love her, but she's ob-obviously having some difficulties adjusting. I guess I can't really blame her for that…"

Sean nodded his head.

"I'm sure le-wooz-ing a spouse is pretty rough. Just givit time. She married you for a reason, r-right?"

The dog looked over and noticed his glass had been refilled without him even realizing it. He took a second to gulp the refill down before continuing to vent.

"I've b-b-been giving it time, though, Ssshhean! It would be one thing if she was just a widdle distant. That I could work with. But, it's like she has no regards for how I feel about t-t-tings!"

He shuddered.

"She's not j-j-just distant. She's compwetewy c-cold most of the time, aaa and...and…"

He growled.

"A fwucking bitch to me the rest ofta time!"

He turned to Horace and shook his glass.

"I'm working my asssh off for her and that family, and I get n-no respeck in return. Would it reawy kill 'er to give me a little support? I mean, ssshhiiit…"

The glass was refilled once more, and Brian took a quick sip, trying his best to calm down.

"Shoot," Sean shook his head. "Um, that really blows, man…" He looked as awkward as Brian had felt when listening to Sean's own story about a marriage gone awry. "I, wiiiith- I wishhh I knew what to say… I'm sure there'ssa bright side somewhere, though? Right? I mean, it's a cliche...but… Hey, what about those, those kids? Yeah? Her kids? Didn't you once s-say they liked you? A-a-at least it's good for them that you're in their lives."

At first, Brian simply shrugged, but as he let Sean's words sink in, he started to feel more heartened, if only a little. "They're...they're good kids. F-for...for the most part. I-I-I think I've always loved them like they were my own. And… And- !" His voice filled with conviction. "Damn right, issa good thing I'm in their lives! Ya know, I qu-westion myself all the time: 'Am I doin' whas right for these kids? Am I, am I….but! I think I've really helped them...grow. Like...I am raising these kids! And I'm doing a damn good job! ...Even with Stewie!"

Sean was now resting his head on the arms he had folded on the bar. "Isstha the baby or the- the ugly middle boy widda mustwache?"

Brian snorted his martini and immediately started coughing. When at last his windpipe was clear, he choked out dryly (so to speak), "The baby."

"Weh- well, how hard is a baby? Man? L-l-like, they're small, and...and they can't go anywhere."

The canine cleared his throat, and half-explained, "This ish, uh… This is a pretty advanced baby. J-jush forget it."

"Already forgawtit," Sean mumbled into his elbow, and Brian believed him, because his former co-worker looked like he was inches away from passing out at the bar.

"H-hey, Shhh- Sean," Brian said, with a chuckle in his voice as he shoved at the man's shoulder. "Think you can..you'can straighten up at all? I can't...I can't, like, follow ya home and help carry you in."

The dog thought he heard Sean mutter something to the effect of being fine. Brian took another drink.

Given that they closed down the bar, and Brian had been persuaded to accompany Sean back to his bachelor apartment and help him stagger through the door (along with Horace, who had grumpily fallen in with the plan, if only because he didn't want such good customers getting killed on the way home), the dog got in from his night on the town quite late.

...Or early, depending on one's perspective. The sun was just starting to rise when the door slammed a little too loudly behind him.

He couldn't remember being this tired in a very long time. The thought of climbing all those stairs… His knees practically buckled just looking at them. He wasn't sure he was up to it.

He nearly ran into the coat tree.

For a couple of reasons…

And he had work in a few hours. Fuuuuck…

The dog settled for climbing up on the sofa and curling into a ball. Alright. Time for a power nap, then.

Gonna power this nap! Super-charged…

He slipped into sleep almost instantly, and almost too gratefully, for how briefly it was destined to last.

Brian awoke to sounds of Lois in the kitchen, and the strong aroma of coffee.

And to entirely too much sunlight entering the room. It seemed to singe his sleep-encrusted eyes, and his head pounded. Groaning, he covered his eyes with his paw and thought, I hope Lois made a fuck ton of that coffee… Cuz I'm gonna need it.

He allowed himself to stay curled up on the couch, hiding his face from the light, for about five more minutes, figuring it was the equivalent to hitting the snooze button. He'd take these measly few minutes of further relaxation if he could get them. Except they weren't totally relaxing when he knew he'd have to hop up soon with his aversion to light and loud noises, and a slightly roiling stomach.

It gave a lurch in protest the second he crawled off the sofa and stood there under the power of his own two feet. He had to do this. He had to get to work. Following the siren call of the smell of coffee- the only thing besides sleep that sounded appealing to him at the moment- he made his way slowly to the kitchen and found his usual seat.

"Coffee?" was his first, somewhat hoarse word to Lois. A little sheepishly, he added, "Uh, please, honey? I- uh, I guess I kinda tied one on last night." He forced a weak chuckle.

Lois, who looked to be in the process of setting the table, shut the silverware drawer a little harder than seemed strictly necessary.

"Of course," she said, with a note of humor in her voice, but it sounded very much like the bitter kind. "You'll definitely be needing this, then, huh?" She held up the coffee pot. "If you're going to make it through the day. Wow, that is some stamina, Brian. I had my doubts you'd be making it into work today at all." She frowned at him as she poured his coffee.

Brian tensed, but seized the coffee like a lifeline, drinking deep from the mug of searing hot liquid. He may have burnt his tongue just a little, but he almost immediately felt a bit more alert. Setting his beverage down and addressing Lois, he apologized. ...But it didn't come out as sincere as he had planned.

"Well, I'm sorry you worried, Lois."

They held eye contact for the longest time Brian could recall. He knew that she knew that he knew that it wasn't his welfare she'd been concerned about. Last night, before he left, she couldn't have given a shit less. She remembered that.

Lois finally shrugged and turned toward a cabinet, from which she pulled out a couple boxes of cereal. "It just seems a little irresponsible to me, to stay out so late drinking when you have work the next day…"

"You know how it is when you have to blow off some steam," defended Brian. He could hear movement upstairs, and knew the kids would be down shortly. "We all have our methods. I wish a spa day would make me feel better, but…"

His wife slammed- there was no other word for it this time- the cupboard door shut, and he could feel her eyes on him, but refused to look up from the inside of his mug of coffee while taking another hearty swig.

"A spa day?" a little upper class British accent piped up, and looking down, Brian was somewhat surprised to see that Stewie had entered the kitchen and was about to scale the highchair and take a seat. Lois obviously hadn't brought the baby downstairs with her, so he'd gotten himself up and then down to breakfast on his own, but of course, this went unremarked on by his mother. "You can sign me up for one of those. I've got stresses like you'd never believe ." He effeminately splayed his hands out before him for emphasis.

"Good morning, Stewie," Brian muttered to the child with as much cheer as he could muster.

This drew Lois's attention, and she pasted a motherly smile on her face as she hastened to set a bowl of oatmeal before the boy. "Here's my little guy's breakfast!"

With disgust on his face, Stewie spooned up some oatmeal and let it drip back off the spoon into the bowl. "Yummy. Did you get the recipe from that orphanage in Oliver Twist ? Thanks so much for the gruel, mother."

Brian rubbed his forehead and reached for the plate of toast Lois placed in the center of the table.

"Well, good luck getting through the day…" Lois hesitated. " Sweetie ." It was possibly the most poisonous thing Brian had ever heard from her, and he actually stopped, the toast halfway to his mouth. "I bet that if you make it through, you'll have learned your lesson, at least." This time, he did turn around, and she smiled at him as though sympathetic.

Something that was said at The Clam last night suddenly popped into Brian's head, and before he could stop himself, it was popping out of his mouth, "Why? It's not like Peter ever did."

" Whoooooo….! " Stewie whistled under his breath. He fanned himself as he looked back and forth between them. "It's getting heated up in here!"

Lois's face was a perfect blank, so much so that the dog had to look away. Fortunately, a distraction soon arrived in the forms of Chris and Meg.

Unfortunately, they were up to the same petty teenage behaviors as usual. Worse, they were as loud as usual.

"I'M NOT TOUCHING YOU!"

Meg came running into the kitchen with Chris following behind her, finger pointed out towards her.

"Chris! Stop it!"

"Oh, for the love of god…"

Stewie's palm hit his face hard enough to make a loud slapping sound. Brian cringed, wondering if the tyke had hurt himself before redirecting his attention towards the older Griffin children.

"Really, guys?"

Meg was quick to respond.

"It's all Chris! He's been following me around like this ever since I got out of the bathroom this morning!"

"Liar!"

Brian, Lois, and Stewie all shook their heads at the children of the house. Just another day at the Griffin house…

Contrary to whatever concerns Brian might have harbored about performing the duties this lousy job required of him today, and contrary to Lois's dire warning, being hungover at the Hummer dealership actually seemed to make the day go by a tiny bit faster. If nothing else, it made it hard to put too much energy into this job he probably took too seriously, anyway. And it made it easier to feel numb.

One of his customers even seemed to appreciate his laidback sales style and became a paying customer, driving away a new SUV in practically record time.

All in all, it could've been a worse day. That is, until it reached its final ten minutes, and Paddy made a pitstop at Brian's desk.

"We've decided to go full-speed ahead on the mascot thing." The little big head tossed a pile of green clothing on the dog's desk, and with a shudder, Brian instantly recognized what it had to be.

"Wear that into work tomorrow, we'll be taking some photos," Paddy ordered, before leaving Brian alone with the leprechaun suit.