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[beejfu]

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[mothmansplaining]

Well, I...don't really have a couch anymore. There's that chair, the spare room, the upstairs bedroom, and the attic.

[To be fair: the chair in question is wide enough for two butts and pretty comfortable. Easy to nap in.]

[beejfu]

I'll take the chair.

[he plops down on it, eerily reminiscent of Stanley Pines]

[mothmansplaining]

[Good, that feels better to Ford than letting him have Stan's old room.

Although that room is also stinky and full of dirty magazines, so it might have worked out.]

Remember, in exchange, I want to know when you're telling the truth.

[beejfu]

Hey! Cross my heart here.

[He makes an X over his heart, then looks put-out when his chest doesn't immediately burst into flames]

Oh, yeah, forgot about the lack of pyrotechnics.

Anyway, deal.

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford stays still for a moment, then breathes out a long, resigned sigh.]

[beejfu]

[suchhh a pleading, innocent smile.

Don't you want a resident demon who brings you your slippers and kills people who bother you and leaves dead animals in weird pentagrams on your floor, Ford?]

[mothmansplaining]

You win this one.

Don't make me regret it.

[beejfu]

Never.

[always]