[hey MTV, this is Dave Strider, welcome to my crib. the place is about as orderly as it has ever been; this particular dream iteration is yet untouched by sburb. there are no weird game mechanics halfhazardly placed wherever. the toilet is where it should be. Dave's bed is also in the corner of his room where it belongs.]
[everything else about it, however, is an utter disaster. there are so many puppets and criss-crossing wires and dangerous weaponry strewn about that it's almost impossible to figure out what to look at first. that one comic is still, unfortunately, taped to the door. the chatbots are as busy as ever. the X-Box is full of glitchy skateboarders, as always.]
[Dave doesn't like it, but he stands by his earlier reasoning, that if Dirk wants to see what's in here, he has the right to. besides, there was something he wanted to grab out of his room.]
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[everything else about it, however, is an utter disaster. there are so many puppets and criss-crossing wires and dangerous weaponry strewn about that it's almost impossible to figure out what to look at first. that one comic is still, unfortunately, taped to the door. the chatbots are as busy as ever. the X-Box is full of glitchy skateboarders, as always.]
[Dave doesn't like it, but he stands by his earlier reasoning, that if Dirk wants to see what's in here, he has the right to. besides, there was something he wanted to grab out of his room.]
[feel free to check out whatever, Dirk.]