“Wake up, buddy. You okay?” “Auntie Em! Auntie Em!” Homer’s VR came online, smiling. “I guess we got’em.” I snorted with relief. “And their little dog, too.” Homer steepled his fingers in a properly evil mastermindish pose. “All their base are belong to us.” We laughed together, maybe the first time since Homer had been born that we’d been in sync like that.
This is the millennial male nerd equivalent of Colleen Hoover’s “We both laughed at our son’s big balls.”
