In the hall, Rose thought that her mother must surely be lurking nearby. She prepared herself for an unpleasant confron –
OH PSYCHE.
What, you say?
Well, Rose's tale will have to wait because right now there's this really cool dude, ok? A cool dude with blond hair and a record on his shirt, who was standing around being all chill, like cool dudes were known to do sometimes.
A cool dude like this probably had a real cool name, but he probably wouldn't just tell you what it was if you asked. He was way too busy for that. Busy being totally sweet.
But we could try to guess his name. And if we were right, he might nod ever so slightly. That was a cool dude's way of letting you know there might just be hope for you yet.
Let's try, Insufferable Pri-
He wielded his katana in a threatening manner.
This guy didn't have time for this kind of bullshit. Try again.
Dave Strider?
Yes, that was it. The sunglasses he was wearing gleamed in approval.
His name was Dave, and it was an unseasonably warm April day. His bedroom window was open to let some air in, and his fan was cranked. Arguably even more cranked would be his fly beats, which brought up the topic of his varying interests. A cool dude like him was sure to have plenty.
He had a penchant for spinning out unbelievably ill jams with his turntables and mixing gear. He liked to rave about bands no one had ever heard of but himself. He collected weird dead things preserved in various ways that he kept on a shelf on his wall. He was also an amateur photographer and operated his own makeshift darkroom. He even had some of his printed photos hanging up on a line that was strung from one side of the room to the other.
Dave maintained a number of ironically humorous blogs, websites, and social networking profiles as well. And if the inspiration struck, he wouldn't hesitate to drop some phat rhymes on a mofo and represent.
He thought about quickly retrieving his arms from the cinderblocks, but then thought 'Nah.'
Instead he looked over at his copies of SBURB beta that he had received in the mail recently. He'd labeled them with his name in bold red print to distinguish them from his bro's copies, who labeled his in kind.
Neither of them really gave a shit about this game or had any intention of playing it, but he'd be damned if he'd let that get in the way of his campaign of one-upmanship.
Dave walked over to his closet. This was where he kept a lot of his crap, like an opened blue box and a bottle of…what was that? Was that…?
He peered into the box. This was the package that his friend John Egbert sent him for his 13th birthday a little while ago. It now contained nothing except a note and a certificate of authenticity vouching for the genuine Hollywood memorabilia which the box originally contained, and which Dave was now wearing to be ironic but also to be incredibly cool in a way somehow intangibly related to the ironic nature of the accessory. He found it sort of exasperating to explain these subtleties to people.
The box also included a signed photo of Ben Stiller which now proudly hung above his closest; proudly and ironically.
Dave captchalogued the box through his hash map fetch modus.
His modus's current hash function resolved the index by valuing each consonant at 2, and each vowel at 1. The total was divided by his number of cards, and the remainder was the index.
BOX = 2 + 1 +2 = 5
5 % 10 = 5
The box was captchalogued in card 5.
Dave then turned his attention to the jar filled with an unknown yellow substance in the closet.
Oh hell yes. It was an unopened container of apple juice. He had thought he was all out. It was like fucking Christmas up in here.
This was so great, he had to tell John about this immediately. He would be so excited.
He captchalogued the juice into card 7.
2+1+1+2+1 % 10 = 7
He went and sat down at his computer to access Pesterchum and pester John.
In addition to letting his buddy know about this outstanding juice windfall, he figured he'd wish him a happy birthday while he was at it. In his own cool, sort of roundabout way of course. Good thing he'd looked at that box John sent him, or he might have forgotten.
He also decided he might as well ask him about that beta. The kid had been harping about it for weeks. It would have been be cool if it came on his birthday. He'd be one happy camper.
- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 18:13 -
TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today
EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny.
TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here
EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage?
TG: but
TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken
TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory
EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle?
EB: try using your brain numbnuts.
TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like
TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous
EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice.
TG: ok i can accept that
TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters
TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face
TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it
TG: did you get the beta yet
EB: no.
EB: did you?
TG: man i got two copies already
TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring
TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro?
EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it.
TG: yeah
TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now
EB: alright.
After closing Pesterchum, Dave opened the Hephaestus web browser and directed it to his ironically maintained blog where he posted monthly satirical reviews of Gamebro Magazine. His latest post was a review of the March issue.
He had been meaning to write a review for the latest issue too, but he had been sort of dogging it. Something about the game they were reviewing just didn't strike him as ripe for satirical purposes.
In a new tab, Dave opened another one of his sites, a webcomic ironically maintained through a satirical cipher vaguely similar to that of his blog. It was called "Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. "
He had legions of devoted fans, most of whom were totally convinced of his creative persona's sincerity. Which was just how he liked it.
The computer beeped; it looked like someone was pestering him, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was.
TT: In some cultures the persistent refusal of a lady's invitation to play a game with her would be a sign wanton disrespect.
TT: Either that, or flagrant homosexuality.
TG: what oh no
TG: no look
TG: im busy ok
TG: ive got a lot of shit on my plate
TG: i am sort of a big deal ok?
TT: I know.
TT: Sometimes I wonder how you are ever allowed to pay for meals in restaurants.
TT: It must be hard to keep a low profile when you're always overhearing awed voices whisper, "It's that guy who has a blog."
TG: seriously
TG: dudes be worshipping me left and right
TG: i cant hardly walk down the street without stepping over torsos of the prostrate
TT: Navigating the urban landscape I'm sure is difficult enough without an obstacle course of deferential flesh and skyward asses.
TT: Perhaps adapting the art of parkour to your unique environment would help?
TG: yeah!
TG: i mean damn
TG: like theres this scruffy little shit at my feet
TG: an orphan or something i dont know
TG: face flush on the pavement
TG: im like dude you listening for a stampede of buffalo or something?
TG: he braves a look at me then gives my shoe a little kiss and scurries the fuck off
TT: Heavy is the crown.
TG: yeah
TG: not kicking oliver twist in the fucking face every day is my gift to the world i guess
TT: Breathtaking magnanimity!
TG: among other things
TG: i just give and fucking give
TT: Indeed, nary a jewel tumbles from your wishbox of daily exploits which I imagine does not sparkle.
TG: oh for fucks sake
TG: youre just lobbying for me to play that dumb game
TT: Baseless accusation!
TG: look i am telling you
TG: egbert is ALL ABOUT that game
TG: he will play it with you and probably be tickled retarded about it
TT: I know this very well.
TT: I cannot hasten his mail's delivery, however.
TG: yeah yeah
TG: ill hassle him some more about it
TG: and look how about this
TG: if you ever find yourself in the position where your life depends on me playing that piece of shit game, then ill play
TG: will that make you happy
TT: More than you know.
TT: It perfectly mollifies my grief over the demise of chivalry.
Meanwhile in the present, in a place where the present may be a concept of dubious merit, John was spacing out.
'JOHN WHAT ARE YOU DOING. STOP DOING NOTHING.'
But a vague and forceful thought jolted him to attention.
Or maybe it was the bumping sound coming from the other side of the door to the balcony, where he was currently standing. What was that?
A thick, black, unpleasant fluid pooled from beneath the door.
'TROUBLING. INVESTIGATE THIS.'
John opened the door cautiously and entered the house.
There was a trail of the fluid in the hall leading to his room.
Dave had had enough of the computer for a while. He felt like he'd been messing around on it all week. It was time to get his jam on.
He pulled up to his trusty AKAI MPC-1000 Sampler and prepared to get sicknasty.
For the next couple minutes, he played some hauntingly sick beats. Those beats were so fresh they belonged in the produce aisle, is what I'm talking about. Soccer moms be thumpin' that shit for ripeness like melons. Know what I'm sayin'?
After beats that fresh, it would have been a crime not to reward himself with a celebratory SWIG.
2+2+1+2 % 10 = 7.
Dave held the bottle of apple juice to his lips and prepared to take his swig, but he couldn't do it! John had him all twisted up inside now. All he could think about was Mandel's gross monster piss.
Damn you, Egbert!
He re-captchalogued the juice.
Then he decided to allocate his sword to his strife specibus; but it had already been allocated with the bladekind abstratus, so there was no need to allocate it again.
He could wield his sweet ninja sword as a weapon once it was in his strife deck; but he would have to captchalogue it first before he moved it there.
The NINJA SWORD (2+1+2+2+1 + 2+2+1+2+2 = 17 % 10 = 7) occupied the same card as the JUICE (2+1+1+2+1 = 7 % 10 = 7), and expelled the juice from his sylladex. It splashed all over his turntables and copies of the beta.
"Argh!" Dave groaned.
He headed out of his room to get a towel from the bathroom across the hall.
Hanging from the ceiling was one of many puppets in his bro's radical collection. Dave glanced at it and nodded in approval.
Was there anything not awesome about his bro? No, he thought not.
He entered the bathroom, and saw that there was a damp towel on the floor he could probably use for this crisis.
He also made sure to stop and pay a little respect to one of his bro's boys hanging up there in the shower.
"Hey lil' man. How's it hangin'?" Dave inquired of the puppet.
No response.
He took the DAMP TOWEL (2+1+2+2 + 2+1+2+1+2 = 15 % 10 = 5), which expelled the BOX (2+1+2 = 5 % 10 = 5), knocking him on the head.
The towel was actually pretty wet, and Dave thought about searching the bathroom for something slightly less damp, but decided he would just wring it out into the toilet instead.
It was now just a TOWEL (2+1+2+1+2 = 8 % 10 = 8).
He took the towel, and grabbed the box again while he was at it, placing them in his sylladex.
Returning to his room, Dave cleaned up the juice with the towel and hung the damp beta envelopes on his line to dry off.
In the breeze of the fan, the beta jostled near the open window.
This arrangement was a little disconcerting. If they fell out, it sure would be a stupid way to lose them.
As a precautionary measure, he turned off the fan. The crisis was easily averted. He couldn't imagine it would ever resurface later in any way, shape, or form. That beta was as good as his, forever.
Dave wondered if Egbert had found the beta yet. He should probably go pester him again. He also might chat about their respective sylladices and fetch modi, if the topic happened to come up. Dave wondered if John was anywhere near as smooth with his sylladex as he was. Probably not. It was probably not even humanly possi…
Suddenly a rambunctious crow flew in the open window and snatched the beta, possibly to make a nest with, or maybe just for the sake of being a brainless feathery asshole.
Dave yelled at the bird. "STOP!"
2 + 2 + 1 + 2 = 7.
He accidentally launched his ninja sword right into the crow, and everything went flying out the window, dead bird and all.
He covered his mouth in alarm. No one could ever know about this.
Leaning out the window, Dave looked to see where everything had gone.
Yeah, he could kiss all that stuff goodbye. He felt sorry for the bird, but at least he never planned on ever using that beta, ever.
Anyway, now that that bit of ugliness was behind him, he guessed he could look forward to several more hours of messing around in his room.