Pretty Dumb
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"What do you see in Astrid, anyway?" Howard asks one day, sorting through the dirty magazines he raided from the bottom of the video rental and the house's previous tenant's dresser. They've got enough pornography to last a lifetime, so Howard figures he can hawk this stuff too. Orc wants to keep a few around for the pictures; with the TV out and Orc barely able to read at a second-grade level, centerfolds are the most intellectual stimulation he gets these days.
"Huh?"
"I said, what do you see in Astrid?"
Orc shrugs. "Don't see nothing. She just helped me through math."
"You could have asked me to help you through math."
"Didn't know you were good at it."
Howard finishes stacking the magazines and checks the drawer for twine to tie the bundles together. "I'm good at a lot of things, man. You always say I'm the smart one."
"You're pretty dumb sometimes." Orc struggles to his feet to go out and whiz. The floor creaks under his weight, and Howard eyes it nervously.
"Well, "pretty dumb" or not, it's thanks to me we're living like the princes of the FAYZ."
Downstairs, Drake screams that he'll whip Orc to pebbles, and that little weasel too. "Some princes," Orc mutters.
Howard laughs, surprised at the joke, and raises an eyebrow. "Can't you just beat him into tomorrow and do us all a favor?"
Orc sighs. "Would have to hit Brittney. Wouldn't be right."
Howard grunts something under his breath, but Orc doesn't catch it or really care. Howard may not understand why it would be wrong to beat up Brittney, but Orc does. Orc's not going to hit anyone who doesn't deserve it again unless he's real sure he has to. Howard might roll his eyes at it, but for such a smart guy, Orc knows Howard can be mighty dumb sometimes.