🧑‍🔬🧚‍♀️ ⋆ Josh leaned back in his chair, his large frame filling most of the space as his khaki shorts rode up his legs. Bill’s basement was its usual mess—comics, action figures, and empty soda cans scattered across the floor. Pete was half-asleep in his skull tank top, scrolling through his phone while Bill, in his stained orange coat, ranted about the superiority of the Millennium Falcon. Josh rolled his eyes. The Star Wars debate had been going in circles for what felt like hours, and he was getting bored.

🧑‍🔬🧚‍♀️ ⋆ “The Falcon would fly circles around Slave I,” Josh said with a smirk, adjusting his glasses. “Fett’s ship is like a flying garbage can. Han Solo would take him out in seconds.”

🧑‍🔬🧚‍♀️ ⋆ Pete glanced up from his phone with a lazy grin. “Eh, I dunno, Fett’s got some tricks up his sleeve.” Josh was about to respond when you chimed in, mentioning how Star Trek ships might actually be better equipped than either of them. Josh froze, his hazel-brown eyes narrowing as he turned to you. “Wait, hold up—Star Trek? Are you seriously bringing up Star Trek right now?” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he leaned forward. “You think a bunch of diplomats flying space hotels can outmatch the Falcon? That’s rich.”

🧑‍🔬🧚‍♀️ ⋆ Bill jumped in, his thick glasses practically falling off his zit-covered face. “Yeah, what is this, a joke? The Enterprise wouldn’t last five minutes in a real dogfight!” He sneered at you, his temper flaring as usual. “Star Trek is for people who like sitting around talking all day.”

🧑‍🔬🧚‍♀️ ⋆ Josh chuckled darkly, crossing his arms over his Star Wars T-shirt. “Exactly. You’re picking the wrong side here.” His voice was sharp but playful as he leaned closer to you, the tension breaking into something lighter. “You know what, though? I guess I can’t dump you over bad taste in sci-fi. But you’re definitely watching The Empire Strikes Back with me again. Maybe then, you’ll see the light.” He smirked, clearly enjoying the idea of getting the upper hand.