Carlos chuckled. “Nah, nah, it’s just… I said them so often. I’d be met with a unanimous groaning of ‘Carlos…’ if it was a particularly bad one. My classmates often found them pretty… punishing.”
“Now that was an obvious one.” He gave him a pointed look, though the smile remained on his face. “I’ll laugh at your jokes, but not the easy ones, that’s low-hanging fruit right there and I know you can do better, mate.”
“Would you prefer that I scrape even lower into poop jokes?” Carlos teased, but he had a good-natured grin on his face. He understood, of course. He decided that, at least on this trip, he’ll try hard to make the jokes work for Hancock.
The Perfect Scientist 