"What about this one?" Ben suggests, showing Michael the page in question. 
  
Ben and Michael are examining a stack of papers, each listing the name, age, sex, background and recent photograph of a potential foster child. In his room, Hunter is perusing a stack of pages describing girls his age, despite having already been informed by Ben that there it would be best not to conduct an affair with his foster sister. 
  
"Too young," Michael replies after a quick glance. "Lindsay and Melanie may be able to cope with little kids on a daily basis, but J.R. is enough for me, thank you very much."

Ben shrugs, returning to the choices. 
  
"This kid looks okay," Michael remarks, indicating the page of a boy named Chris. 
  
At the same time, Michael and Ben spot the words <i>has been known to socialize poorly with others, particularly other teenagers.</i>
  
They each turn to look at Hunter's door, hearing the low grunting that indicates he may have found a girl to his liking. "Next," Ben deadpans. 

The process continues for another four hours, with Ben eventually giving up on it and starting dinner while Michael and Hunter look over the remaining pages together. "This girl's hot," Hunter says from time to time, and on each occasion, Michael wrinkles his nose and wonders how this poor, deprived kid went from hustler to hetero. 

There is a knock at the door. Michael gestures for Hunter to get it, and he does. Brian walks in. 

"Hello, Stepfords," comes Brian's signature drawl. "How goes it in the hellhouse?"

"Hi, Brian," Michael and Ben chorus. 

Flicking his cigarette lighter on and off idly, Brian asks, "What are you kids doing?" 

Before Michael can answer, Brian brushes past the table upon which there are stacks of foster kids. He snatches a page up and scans it. 

"Looking at foster kids," Michael replies, trying to grab the page back from him. 

Brian pushes Michael back. "So you'd be living with one of these brats?" he inquires, gesturing at the enormous pile of paper.
  
"Correct," Ben calls from the kitchen. 
  
Brian straightens the paper in his hands. "Get this one." 
  
"Excuse me?" 
  
"Get. This. One." He waves the page in Michael's face. 
  
Michael reclaims the paper and peruses it. "Why?" Suddenly realizing something, he blurts out, "Brian, you are not going to fuck our foster kid!"

Hunter shrugs. "Why not?"
  
Michael smacks the side of his son's head. 
  
"I don't want to <i>fuck</i> him," Brian drawls. "I don't fuck <i>children</i>. However, I think you should get him for several reasons, not the least of which is that he and the littlest hustler would probably get along." 
  
Vengefully, Hunter swings his foot into Brian's shin. "You said you'd stop calling me that, fucker." 

Brian smirks. "So I did. Well." He takes a last glance at the page. "When do you have to choose by?" 

"We don't," Ben answers. "We just have to call the agency whenever and tell them which kid we want, and since they've already done a background check on us, all we have to do is show up and get him or her." 

Hunter inhales sharply. "The kid doesn't even have a say?" 

"Nope," Brian drawls. "Children have no say in their own lives. This is America, not some undeveloped country on Mars." 
  
Hunter raises an eyebrow, a trick he perfected after long hours of watching Brian do the same. "I think we should get him," he mutters. 
  
Having relocated from the kitchen into the living room, Ben replies, "Me too." He pauses and reads the page more carefully. Aloud, he announces, "His name is Justin, he's about Hunter's age, with bio-parents unknown. And he's been moving from home to home since he was seven."
  
Brian winces. 
  
"What do you say, Michael?" Hunter asks hopefully, in the tone one might use when pleading for a new pet. 
  
Michael looks the page over. "You promise you won't come on to him or anything, Brian?" 

Brian snorts. "I have enough things to come on, thank you very much, Mikey. Now, you gonna call the agency, or what?"