Braznt was sitting on the couch in the Living room of the Heights, wearing the jock he borrowed from Stamos while watching Food Network as all of his clothes were in the wash.  Ever since arriving on Earth, he’d been fascinated with Iron Chef...confused as they wore no armor, yet were treated like champions.

Emma walked in, holding a pair of Braznt’s pants.  The Emolga Aviatrix appeared unfazed by the Asgardian’s state of dress, “Braznt, I have a question...”

The Asgardian looked up at her, “Yes?”

“Well, I came across one of your jeans in the laundry, and...your pants..they have a zipper.  Like a full-fledged crotch fly.  I didn’t think that Asgard knew about male urinal procedures.”

Braznt shrugged, “You sound surprised.  Asgard has long known that a warrior should not be caught with his pant around his ankles while relieving himself.  Terrible situation if you are ambushed."