Okay, guys! I know how late it is, and I apologize, but I needed time to write my own story and get through testing. I also wanted to see where this is headed, and I think I'll morph it into an AU halfway through; maybe I'll even skip ahead. We'll see. All I can say with any certainty is that I will probably update at least once a week from now on. Reviews are welcome, so are requests of pairings, and any ideas that you have!

Dave P.O.V:

- - ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] - -

EB : Hey man! Guess what?

Dave turned to his computer, pausing his dubstep remixing. He took his headphones off and set them beside his monitor. He closed out his new sick rap he was working on and opened up Pesterchum to reply to his bro, John.

TG : what

EB : TP is going to play Sburb with us! I can't wait.

Dave quirked an eyebrow at this statement, he nearly congratulated himself for his ironic wit among the baseless wacky antics and flat puns of others (e.g. John's inherent inability to pull complex pranks on his fellow friends effectively; he tried his best, and his best was good, but his best wasn't the best.) Dave decided that a thorough analysis of John's ideology was redundant at the moment, so he merely responded with a sarcastic remark.

TG : is that some kind of ironic pun

TG : tp

He stretched back in his chair, yawning. His friends and he were going to play this ironic game he and his bro got called Sburb. He didn't know much about it, but all of his friends were very excited about it. They all decided to get together at the same time and begin playing together.

He was hungry and he knew that he would be cracked out on this game within the hour, so he should hurry up and get some sustenance inside him. He stood up and strode out of his room, his door opening and closing soundlessly. As he walked through the apartment, he passed by various posters his brother, Dirk, hung ironically around on the walls. His brother and his more-than-friend, Jake, were always arguing over Dirk's taste in movies (e.g., his unironic submersion in the MLP fandom). Dave made his way through the open area of his kitchen/living room complex as quickly as possible, stepping around piles of smuppets as he moved to the kitchen.

When he passed the futon, he noticed his brother was sprawled out across its white-striped cushion, snoring slightly. Dave scoffed and moved over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring blankly at the pile of shitty swords that fell out, before grabbing a bottle of apple juice off the counter and downing it in one gulp. He tossed it to the trash and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza, eating it where he stood before slinking back to his room. He passed by his brother soundlessly, careful not to wake him.

He pulled his new phone out of his pocket and texted his other best bro, Alfred.

- - turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering exasperantRocket [ER] - -

TG : yo bro

TG : sup

ER : oh hi man how u doin i just got my game and im puttin it in now

TG : cool

TG : im chill btw

TG : just passed my bro

TG : hes asleep

TG : i ate some food and now im ready to crack out on some ironically shitty video game

Dave had made it back to his bedroom and shut his door, staring longingly at his turntables. He thought back to the sick beats he was just previously working on. He really wanted to get back to work. The kind where you got paid to jack off and rhyme sick beats and insults to strangers. He huffed a sigh and swaggered over to his desk, slouching down in his chair and putting in his Sburb client disk. (Truthfully, he only put in the client disk because it sounded better than server.) He watched the screen as a prompt menu opened up but before he could click anything, it began installing, the psychedelic pattern shifting colors as the bar dragged across the screen at a painfully slow pace.

ER : i hope you didnt play the server cuz thats the one i picked and i heard from TP that they have to be different

TG : well then butter my biscuits and call me pregnant

TG : i put in the client

ER : let my game finish loading and we can play

Dave let his head hang back, his eyes drifting to his blinking overhead light through his dimming shades. There were mosquitoes flying around it that were let in through his consistently open window. The fan hanging from his closet that was meant to combat the heavy Texan heat washed slightly cooler air over him in much the same way that snow washes over people; it was choppy and fairly ineffective at keeping him permanently cool. His analogy sputtered out in his mind. He couldn't equate anything to snow except unicorns and the first 26 seasons of Dr. Who (he watched number nine for ironic purposes), for he'd never seen snow.

His Pesterchum rang and he checked it to see that it was Alfred again. His straight face nearly faltered into a smile. John was definitely his best bro, but for some reason, pestering Alfred always made him happier. It was probably because no matter how adorably dorky John was, Alfred was cool. Alfred was the epitome of American stereotypes; he wore a bomber jacket, hipster glasses (they weren't prescribed), ate a ton, and had horrible manors and a selfishly-one sided view of the world. He was ironic gold, and Dave planned to fully exploit that factor.

ER : hey man i see your house! thats so sick! look ill click on your bed

Suddenly, Dave's bed was unearthed from its natural seating and nearly flung into his turntables. His fingers met the keyboard and moved with a furious flurry unmatched by any before. Not his music; anything but his music.

TG : fuck man

TG : whats your problem

TG : do you have an immense artillery of oiled-up mayonnaise catapults stuck in your ass or something

ER : sorry man! wait WAS THAT REALLY YOU? HOLY SHIT IM GOD

Dave sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

Okay, guys! from now on, I will shout out everyone that leaves a review down here and give special thanks/answer questions that are asked fairly often. On that note, thank you ChocoBalls for your encouraging review! Chapter three should be up soon!