Oh well, at least Slav's days of getting cornered by bullies on the playground were long past. At the shop where he practically lived, given half the chance, he was simply 'Slav' or 'Distracto Boy.' Yeah, they were not exactly extremely creative with the nicknames. But it was better than the client missing three fingers, an eye and the opposite eyebrow. They called him Bill.
He had to make a face at his brother being overly facetious about breakfast, "I know what breakfast is." His tone would have been petulant, if Slav had not already known that he really should have eaten already. Sleeping in late was not really his thing, he liked to be up and about before nearly anyone else. So he could at least attempt to get some things done, or at least further completed before the majority of distractions arose.
"Oh, okay," the younger of the two agreed. Heading towards the door, before he stopped, and looked down at his hands. Which were still holding onto a rather large and heavy pot he had picked up earlier. The shaggy haired teenager shook his head and then went back to put it away onto one of the shelves, where it rightfully belonged. Taking good care to be sure that it was secure and not about to fall back over again.
As he headed back towards the door, he just had to ask one thing, "If I read a magazine, are you gonna smack me?" There was an issue of retro cars tucked in his back pocket. At least he thought so, Slav still had to check his pocket to make sure.