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Crossing out the names from Ford’s list with his rather robust scribbling skills, the boy huffed and crossed his arms. Sitting back down and eventually slumping against the wall, he pouted his lips forwards in an attempt at a thought. Ford, on the other hand, had begun trying to write down a few more names.

Axel was a no, and so was Jared. Then went Tyrone- no matter how cool that name sounded- and Ryan. Gone was Isaac, Harold, and Jim. They were all too generic for such a rambunctious child, as none of the names rang a little bell that signaled a good name.

“Come on, you gotta think of something, Stinkbrain! It’s your name after all, right? So you gotta think of it yourself!” Ford had given up on the names by now, scribbling the whole page into a mess and throwing a crumpled piece of notebook paper that had been freshly ripped out into the bin. “If you don’t want a boring name, why’d you come up with this trash?”

 

“Stinkbrain, huh?” Though it was an often used nickname, the boy hadn’t thought of how helpful the rather rude term could be. “Stinkbrain…stink…brain…stunk…stain…St- I’ve got it!” Suddenly, his eyes were wide with an accompanying smile, which showed off very well how he felt about the matter.

His brother perked up from the notebook, stopping his senseless name-finding search. Ford’s glasses had nearly fallen off in an act of surprise, a six-fingered hand adjusting them to where they should be on his face to avoid his eyes from getting that familiar sting that happened when he couldn’t see all that well.

 

“Got what?” He asked, simple but it wasn’t like his twin brother gave much of an explanation for his sudden outburst.

 Both hands on the floor, large grin on his face, the boy gave his suggestion.

 

“Stan!”

 

“Uh, yeah?” Ford replied, tilting his head to the side and looking at his brother with a confused daze. His brother was no good with names, and perhaps he was saying Ford’s for the satisfaction of saying one that was good. But then, the young boy spoke up.

 

“No, no, not you-” he began, shaking his hands at the remote idea. Pointing at himself with his thumb, he continued. “Me!”

 

“But I’m already Stan,” said the other, still confused. He couldn’t tell all that well what his brother was thinking of at this point; it was enough that they were identical twins but with identical names? How absurd!

 

“Yeah, Stanford.” But, as Stan had continued on, it started making sense. “But add Stan to Lee and you get-”

 

“Stanley! It’s ingenious! And here’ I thought you’d think of something completely inane.” Ford gave his brother a bump with the elbow, chuckling.

 

“Nope! Ain’t like you use the ‘Stan’ part of your name that much anyways,” Stan retorted, reciprocating the elbow-action.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Ford replied, shutting his notebook closed with the many unused- and awful- names.