"Again? Don't you ever get sick of this movie? It has no historical value whatsoever."
"That's a lie," Riley argued playfully. "What about the part when the teacher's like…'Anyone…? Anyone?' and then he says, 'something D-O-O economics? Voo Doo Economics?' That's historical value. And when Ferris tells Cameron that they've seen priceless pieces of art—more history. Besides, it's my night to pick a movie."
"But you pick this every Friday!"
"Notice how he doesn't comment on my argument against his argument of lack of historical value. Typical," Riley mumbled to himself, still somewhat jocularly.
Ben groaned. "Riley, please? We've got like…two hundred other movies, pick something else."
"Nope," Riley grinned mischievously. "Want to know why?"
"You're going to tell me anyway."
"Indeed. You pick one of the em Indiana Jones /i movies every time."
"At least I alternate them," Ben grumbled, his arms crossed.
"Even so, you point out every historical mis-whatever and it gets boring."
"Um, hello? Treasure hunting? Does it get much better than that?"
"Yes! Try riding a Ferrari through Chicago."
"With traffic jams," Ben reminded.
"Highways," Riley countered. "Now please, just shut up and we'll watch the movie."
"No. We're watching it. Now go make the popcorn."
"Yes sir," Ben mocked, but got up anyway.
When Ben reentered the large living room, he heard a familiar theme song. He stood, stunned, at the entrance. He felt two arms come around him, and a chin on his shoulder.
Riley sighed. "Happy?"
"Let's watch i Ferris /i ."
"Nope, you wanted i Indiana /i and that's what you're getting."
"Uh-uh! Or no dessert!"
Ben smiled, knowing Riley was not referring strictly to food. They both sat down on the leather coach and enjoyed a typical Ben and Riley Saturday night.