Edith Anthrope is my wife

Okay. So. In Epic Tales, there’s an instance where Melvin refers to George and Harold, collectively, as “simpletwins.” So either I heard it wrong (most likely), he actually thinks they’re twins (Piqua! Falls! Piqua! Falls! Piqua! Falls!), or he has a slight speech impediment. Now, he would absolutely hate that, because scientists give speeches, and you can’t just mispronounce a consonant at a convention and expect to be taken seriously. Most people have trouble with “th"s, and he can pronounce that perfectly–it’s not even a nervous tic, though adrenaline does worsen the problem. It’s more like the neurological autocorrect. 

George, however, is the absolute worst. 

Melvin absolutely hates talking to him, because, well, one, because he’s George, two, because he’s like the personification of everything he’s trying to hide. He literally just rolls over hard consonants. Half the time, Melvin isn’t even sure if it’s actually a speech disorder or if George is just messing with him, because every single time he corrects him, he’ll either miss the word again or keep going with more rapid mispronunciations, generally of science and math terms. 

(“Hey, Melvin! What’s a pollynomal?”) 

But the thing about George is, he’ll talk to him anyway if just to see his expression when he fudges a vocabulary term for the umpteenth time. So one day, Melvin snaps. “The word is Bruschetta, you imbesquill!” The classroom goes silent. George is trying hard to smother a laugh as he slowly says, “Melvin? Did you just say imbesquill?” That may be the only moment in Jerome Horwitz history someone (actually got him to shut up. His eyes go wide. He slaps his hands over his mouth and starts walking backward nervously, only to trip over a backpack and hit the file cabinet to everyone’s amusement. Needless to say, he does not have a very good day.