Montgomery Gator never really understood the idea of an existential crisis. He just couldn't wrap his head around the concept of not being sure of who and/or what you were; that was more Roxy's thing. Really, as much as he loved the girl, she had some shit to work out and almost certainly couldn't do it alone. But Monty wasn't the guy to do it, because he just didn't get it.

Even now, when he was pretty sure he was having one, he still didn't get it.

'Who the hell does that shrimp think he is?'

"Hit or stay?"

'Here he is, in THE Pizza Plex, talkin' to the coolest GATOR on the planet, and the little shit wants to talk biology?!'

"Monty?"

'Maybe if he got off Wikipedia for two minutes, he'd have some friends to come to his birthday party!'

"Monty!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, what's up Vic?" Monty said, slightly embarrassed for having gotten so lost in his own thoughts.

"Hit or stay?" Victor asked, nodding to the two face-down cards sitting in front of the robot across from him. "I'm good with what I've got."

"Uh…" Monty looked at his cards and fought back a grimace. Seventeen; a number that probably wouldn't be high enough to win, but made drawing another card super risky. "Screw it, I'll hit," and so he did. If he had a heart, it would've skipped a beat when he pulled a three. "Stay."

"Nineteen," Victor said as he laid down his cards.

"Twenty."

"Well damn," Victor chuckled, his luck having failed him for the first time that night. He readied himself for Monty's usual gloating, but instead only heard the sound of the deck being reshuffled before two more cards were tossed in front of him. "So, what's eating you?"

"Say what?"

"You've been distracted through the whole game, then you finally win and it's like you didn't even notice. Something's going on, so why not just tell me? It's kinda what I'm here for."

"Tch, do I look like Roxy?" Monty scoffed, then immediately wished he could take it back. Roxy's issues ran deep and weren't something to be treated so disrespectfully, even if she wasn't around to try and rip him a new charging port. "Shit, I'm sorry, it's just…The problem actually is what I look like. You know anything about crocodilians?"

"Mostly just what I remember from the documentaries I watched as a kid."

"Enough to tell species apart?"

"I think I could do alright."

"Well?" Monty pointed at his own face and waited expectantly.

"Well…If I had no idea who you were, I'd say you were modeled after a crocodile," Victor answered honestly. "It's the snout, really. Crocodiles have snouts that taper to a point like yours, while alligators have more broad, boxy heads."

"Shit," Monty hissed and started to sag in his seat.

"Is that a problem?"

"Nah, it's fine. Not like my name's Montgomery GATOR, right?"

"You can't be blamed if the guy who designed you didn't know his reptiles."

"But now that I know it, I can't UNknow it, y'know? And now I have to live a lie because of…branding!"

Victor rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on and said, "Look, I'm not one to throw out quotes and shit, but I think Mark Twain's 'Never let the truth get in the way of a good story' applies here. It's good branding, Monty. Catchy, memorable, even patriotic if you think about it. You like it, I like it; everyone likes it. Even the know-it-alls like it enough to ignore the fact that you're probably a crocodile. I mean, Chica's a chicken with teeth and no one bats an eye; none of you were designed with accuracy in mind."

"But…but I'm the Termigator, man," Monty muttered, his voice actually cracking in a way that was impossibly real. "Not the…the Termidile or whatever."

"Croconator?" Victor ventured.

"...Better, but still."

"Dude, just think of it as your rockstar name and roll with it."

"..." while he didn't reply, the robotic reptile did perk up considerably, to the point where I grin started to form on his lips.

A grin Victor didn't particularly like.

"...Did I just give you a new catchphrase?"

"Thank you," Monty said as he mimed grabbing something out of the air and putting it in his pocket.