Howie the little girl doesn't understand what the term "disaster face" means. "What does 'disaster face' mean?" she asks Bermuda and Steve.
Bermuda scratches the inside of their left thigh as he ignores the little girl holding the severed head. Steve looks up at the clouds and whistles as he ignores her.
"What does 'disaster face' mean?" she asks again. "And did you mean me, or Head?" She holds up her pet old man head for emphasis.
After about thirty seconds of waiting for a response and getting nothing but an explicit view of inner-thigh scratching and a tuneless whistle, she shrugs and turns to walk away.
"Hey Disaster FACE!" shout Bermuda and Steve at once. Howie stops and turns again, and Bermuda and Steve run away. They trip over a shrub in someone's front yard and get stuck.
Howie walks up to the naked, blue, two-headed monster in the bush. "You're right, Head," she says. "I think they are the disaster face."
"Hey, help us up, huh?" says Bermuda.
"No one's ever going to help us with that tone of voice." says Steve.
"What tone of voice do you think would be better?" asks Bermuda.
"How about... supercilious?" says Steve.
"I don't even know what that word means. Maybe we should just offer to give her something if she helps us?"
"Like what?" asks Steve. But Howie is already gone. She's tired of naked, blue, two-headed monsters calling her cryptic names and then figuring out how to make her help them out of a bush. She's gonna go pawn her mom's jewelry to buy candy.