The scowl that started when Ford ducked away from his fist only deepens at the words. He's trying to be patient, still, but shit Ford you really aren't making it easy. "So you think I've spent the last decade, what, braidin' my mullet and talkin' about boys? You know me, Ford. You know I can handle myself. And if you're so sure you don't want me here, just tell me why. Let me inside outta' the cold for a second, and tell me why. That's not askin' much, right?"

As he speaks Stanley hunches his shoulders, rubs at his fingers as if trying to warm them. It is cold out here, it is in fact freezing, it's not that much of an exaggeration. Take pity on your poor brother, just for a few seconds. All Stanley needs is to get a foot in the door, he'll convince Ford the rest of the way from there.