Stan grins, following Ford's pose again and sitting up. Teasing his brother feels good, making him smile like that, it feels natural, but all the same Stan's grin fades as he takes in the rest of what Ford's saying. Or, you know, tries to. There's so much, what with the devil thing and crossing over and 'entering our world' - what, from where? Space? That doesn't sound like the right answer somehow, feels like he's missing something simple, and his gaze kind of skitters away from Ford, landing harmlessly on the floor a little ways away.

"Uh, look-" Stan rubs his head, his hand moving down to the back of his neck and hanging there. "I know I'd have to ask about a million questions before I start to understand this shit even half as well as you do. And I know, uh, I know all this ain't exactly my area. But when I first got here you said you'd tell me what you were up against, really show me why you don't want me here. And now I seen it. Some of it, anyway. And I- Look, I'm good at the heavy lifting shit, and I know you could use a couple extra fists. And there's no way you don't need the backup. So if- i-if, if y-you, uh-"

Sheesh, this is worse than the moment he got here, standing in front of that cabin, staring down at that doorknob and trying to talk himself into turning it.

"If you wan-want, I-I- we could, w-we could, uh, if, if you- "

Yep. This is Stan's part of their deal, the end of his trial period and the moment, his moment to show Ford what he's got, really sell it- and that's it. That's the best he's getting. That and a vague handwave, one meant to show that they could, you know, that maybe they could-

Ugh. Shit. Probably best if he doesn't look up, isn't it?