How's that any better than weirdies? [It doesn't sound cooler at all.

He settles on the couch next to Prior, accepting the slung arm and leaning into the man's side as he thinks. And isn't that strange, the guy's all ribs. He can feel it even through the shirt. You could probably play them like the xylophone.]

See, that's the whole problem! It could be doing the polka right in front of you and you wouldn't see it. [He sniffs. Slides his arm under his nose to clear the wetness away and clears that on his shirt.] Grown ups don't see anything.