It's another hot day in Houston, fuck, like there is any other type of weather here besides 'regular hot' and 'fuck why did you walk outside, have you lost your goddamn mind' hot. The sun has just set, the street lights just turning on, and still it's hot out. Fuck.

Sitting on the edge of the roof is one Dave Strider (having more than one Dave Strider would just be weird and way too much cool for reality to handle), the resident cool kid of this and every other universe. Being a cool kid in one of the hottest cities around is ironic and that's just the way you like it.

You are always calm and cool, despite the weather. Your poker face is legendary; a stony exterior that keeps your emotions in check and never cracks. Well, at least it doesn't crack all the time.

There is one person on this planet that has just enough dork to counteract your cool to accomplish such a feat as cracking your poker face and his name is John Egbert. Even his name screams giant nerd. Speaking of the nerd he is currently latched onto your arm like some sort of spider monkey.

"Pleeeaaasseeee Daaaveee!"

He's been doing that non-stop for the past ten minutes. What part of the 'stoic silence' was he missing? Maybe it's the 'silence' part.

"No."

"But why not?" And cue pouting.

"Because I said so." Denied, begging level two commences.

"Ah come on, Dave! It's not even light out! Do you have to wear those things all the time!"

Without missing a beat, "Yep."

He just stares at you; finally he gets it. You go back to watching the feathery assholes peck the shit out of each other and wait for one of them to pick a target walking by down below.

Feeling a slight shift in the air you look to the right just in time to have your face make friends with a piece of blue fabric.

"Omph!" Sliding across the rooftop you find yourself pinned by the Heir of Dork. He reaches towards your face. Big mistake.

"What the fuck, Egbert?" Crossing your legs around his ankle and pushing up on his chest you manage to flip him over and switch places. "When I say no, I mean no!"

You didn't want to get rough with him, but Striders don't play that kind of shit. Looking down you notice he's just looking up at you, not moving or anything. "Yo, Egbert, Earth to Egbert. Am I gonna have play fix up Egbutt 'cause he decided to be a complete spaz?" Still nothing. "Don't make me get the maid outfit?" Still zilch.

For the first time you notice he's staring at your face, looking you in the eyes, your beloved shades nowhere in sight. Then you take note of your position, both hands latched onto his wrists and one leg straddling him, while the other is too close too your friend's junk for comfort.

Getting up quickly you flash step your way to the roof access door, mask cracking along the way, and you abscond your way to the bathroom. You think you can hear him call out to, you saying something about what a cool shade of red your eyes are, but at the moment you don't really care. You have to deal with a little, ahem, problem before you can look him in the eye again.