Here's a nice little Sea Grunks short, partly inspired from a few comments I've received.

There were few things Stan regretted about having those two little gremlins come to stay with him for the summer.

Very few, in fact, considering that thanks to them, he finally felt whole again for the first time in forty years. Sure, he regretted all the times they had been in danger, or when he'd done things that had hurt them in some way (especially those), but he didn't regret all the fun times they'd had together.

But right now, he was kind of regretting that he'd let Mabel give him lessons to make him more likable to Lazy Susan. Specifically, he was regretting that he'd let her try to shave his chest, considering that it had been months since then and he was still trying to unclog his razor of all the excess hair.

"C'mon, stupid-" he wacked the bottom of the razor with his palm, trying to dislodge the chunk that had to be in there somewhere jamming it up.

The razor remained stubbornly uncooperative.

With a growl, Stan banged it on the table a few times-and let out a frustrated curse when the entire bottom half broke off, complete with a small puff of smoke and a large pile of burned hair that was dumped out onto the tabletop.

"...You know, there's always a simpler solution," a smug voice from behind him began to say.

"I am not setting my face on fire every morning," Stan growled, taking the opportunity to finish cleaning out the razor and then groping around for the toolbox. "End of story."

"I'm just saying," Ford said in a tone he would have denied was wheedling, "if you're going to be stubborn and cheap and refuse to just buy a new one, you should probably go with a simpler, more efficient solution."

"You are not making it sound any more appealing," Stan said flatly, grabbing a screwdriver.

"It doesn't even hurt most of the time! All it takes is a little practice and-"

"NO."

Stan ignored the way his twin was sulking behind him, and stared thoughtfully at the remains of his razor, looking for which part he needed to fix.

Maybe he should just grow a beard; they were living on a boat out in the middle of the Arctic Ocean anyway, who was gonna judge him? Or he could use a knife, like in the movies; he was sure they could pick up some cheap shaving cream the next time they were in port…

Then Ford was sitting down next to him with a grudging "Move over," and grabbing up some tools himself.

Stan smiled.

The score so far:

Technology: 3. Pines Family: 0.