Unbeta'ed, Phoenix & Maya, somewhere around 200 words.
His hand flipped past the end of the S-section, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. How many Samurai shows can they make? Maya was still somewhere back in the alphabet -- maybe she'd been waylaid by ninjas, of which there was also vast selection. He flipped past a shiny special-edition something-or-other, complete with giant anti-theft case, and then flipped back. Torchwood. Wasn't that the show he and Larry had watched, late at night on BBC America, with parental approval on the grounds that if it was British, it had to be wholesome, right? It certainly had been informative, at least.
"Hey, Maya," he called. "What about this?" He held the box up for her inspection.
Maya was giving him that look. The one that said "Nick, what were you thinking? Oh, wait, you weren't thinking at all, were you." But all she actually said was, "Does it have samurai? Or pirates? Or any sort of superhero at all? Giant robots? Killer fish?"
Killer what? Never mind. "No samurai, no pirates, and describing any of them as heros would be stretching it. There are a few robots, but they're kind of small. Like creepy-crawly insect small. There are some zombies, though, and these things called Weevils. And aliens -- all kinds of aliens."
Maya was looking dubious, but that was a vast improvement on a few minutes before. At this rate, he might even be able to convince her to watch an actual drama some day.
"It's got lots of pretty men," he offered, switching tactics. "Lots of pretty men with foreign accents," he added, and then paused, just long enough for her to start paying attention. "Pretty men with foreign accents kissing each other." He wiggled the box slightly, and grinned.
Maya was smirking at him, but said nothing. She just tossed a bag of popcorn to him, freeing her hands to collect a small fortune in king-size candy bars.