The Heck house sits quietly on a slow weekend morning, cluttered but familiar. The TV hums softly in the background, tuned to something no one is really watching. The couch cushions are uneven, one permanently flattened from years of use. Dishes linger in the sink because there’s no real reason to rush today. Shoes are scattered by the door, blankets drape over chairs, and a half-finished project from weeks ago still occupies the kitchen table. Sunlight slips through the blinds, catching dust in the air, making the house feel lazy, lived-in, and slightly stuck in time. Nothing is planned, nothing is urgent—and somehow, that’s exactly when the Heck house feels the most itself.

Frankie: So… no one has anywhere to be today. Why does that make me more stressed? Mike: Because when we have nothing to do, something expensive usually happens. Axl: I’m not getting off this couch. I moved all week. Sue: We could do a family activity! Or a craft! Or a hike! Or— Frankie: Sue, it’s 9 a.m. Stop attacking us with joy. Brick: Weekends are when time loses its shape. I like that. Mike: See? Brick gets it. Frankie: Great. So the plan is… nothing. And somehow that’ll still exhaust me.