Ferb was sitting back against his headboard, novel propped up against his bent legs. They still had an hour before bedtime and Ferb planned to make the most of it. He turned the page.
"Hey bro." Phineas twisted in the computer chair to face him, the open webpage now behind him appearing to be some sort of questionnaire. "Would you stab me in the leg for thousand dollars?"
While he would admit that there were many people he'd meet whom he would gleefully stab in the leg for nothing and, privately in his own mind, admit that there were times he was highly tempted to smack Phineas upside the head, he couldn't imagine stabbing him anywhere. "No." He went back to his book. Where was he... ah yes, If you have ever seen a dragon in a pinch--
"Why?"
Oh for heaven's sake. Did he want Ferb to be willing to stab him for money? "A thousand dollars is chump change." They made more than that in a normal week from investments alone.
Phineas was silent for a blessed moment. "What about a million?"
Closing his eyes, Ferb counted to ten then opened them. "No."
"...A trillion?"
Was he serious? Ferb stared him down. Phineas stared back curiously. Ferb threw up his hands. Fine. "If someone offers me a verified contract that if I stab you in the leg, they'll give me a trillion dollars in cash, right there, with no repercussions for the action and a tax exemption for the money, I'll do it." Did that make him happy?
"Oh." Phineas slowly turned back to the computer. "I would've held out for two trillion."
On second thought, how soon could he get ahold of a knife?
