Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and right now you are updating your multifarious blogs, which you run for ironic purposes. At the top of your priority list is cranking out a new Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comic. Your hordes of rabid fans eat this stuff up like a fat man's last twinkie, and who are you to deprive a hungry man his sugary confections?

Dave: Realize you've forgotten something.

You glance at the calendar on your wall. It's an ironic gift from your Bro. Every month your eyes are graced with a new picture of a marionette doll scantily clad and arranged carefully in a compromising position. It would be creepy if you both hadn't nodded stoically at each other when he handed it to you, solidifying the joke beneath a layer of grim seriousness. How cool can your Bro get?

Dave: Examine circled day.

You've circled today, July 17th, in red marker. You've also included some large red arrows and stars around the designated square for good measure. It's to mark the release of a new game, MASTERQUEST ULTIMATE ELITE, and the disk for the game should have arrived this morning. It's actually supposed to be a pretty shitty game, but you've been heralding this day with enough fanfare to get Egbert to believe it's going to be the greatest thing since Con Air came out.

Dave: Retrieve disk.

It's been quiet all day, and you haven't seen your Bro in a few hours. You've been through this drill before, and you know what's waiting for you somewhere in the apartment. You wonder if you can avoid it long enough to track down that disc.

You exit your room cautiously but not cautiously enough. Out of the corner of your eye you see a shadow darting behind you, and suddenly CAL is blocking your path to the living room. Where'd you come from, lil' man?

Dave: Strife!

Cal becomes the least of your worries when your BRO appears behind you. He is wielding a deadly NINJA SWORD. You whip out your slightly less impressive katana and AGGRESS.

Your Bro flashes you a thumbs up before soundly kicking your ass.

There really isn't much more to say on the matter of the sound ass kicking that occurs. Your ass is the soccer ball pee-wee soccer teams use. It gets a thorough drubbing without any hope of it ever reaching the goal.

Bro takes your katana before disappearing with Cal into the living room.

Dave: Retreat to your room.

You retreat to your room without the game disk.

Looks like someone has been trying to get your attention on Pesterchum. Better answer them.

Dave: Answer Rose.

TT: Dave.
TT: Dave.
TT: That's okay, I'll wait. I know how packed the daily schedule of a blogger like you can be.
TG: hey
TT: The cool guy returns.
TG: was there something important you wanted to talk about here?
TT: Yes.
TG: cool lets talk about me for a second
TG: i just got my ass handed to me by my bro
TT: Oh?
TT: And is this outcome somehow different from that of every other sparring match you have with your Bro?
TG: whoa why don't we take the sarcasm dial and turn it from insufferable to only mildly irritating?
TT: . . .
TG: okay look
TG: this is the third time this week ive been ambushed outside my room by him and cal
TG: and as cool as these intense battles are
TG: they're starting to get a little old
TT: You mean you don't enjoy these frequent displays of swordsmanship which invariably end with you receiving the short
TT: Or rather sharp
TT: End of the proverbial stick?
TT: I'd always assumed that came with the territory of having an insanely cool bro.
TT: Along with the omnipresence of suggestive puppets for the sake of "Teh Ironies."
TG: no
TG: i mean
TG: yeah a dudes got to suffer the burden of his fair share of epic sword battles
TT: Of course.
TG: but it starts to wear a guy down when he cant even venture out to take a piss without worrying about sharp weaponry flying his way
TT: Have you ever considered that perhaps there is a purpose to these routine battles?
TT: That, in their increased frequency, they are meant to facilitate your own increase in skill?
TT: And that your Bro, in his own unique way involving voluminous amounts of plush puppet rump and surprise attempts on your life, is somehow trying to help you?
TG: leaving the puppets out of this
TG: because the puppets are cool ive already explained this to you
TG: i think hes just messing with me
TG: trying to see how much i can take before i flip my shit off the roof of this shitty apartment complex
TG: maybe hes got a bet going with cal to see how long i last
TG: and when the guys in white coats finally come to haul me off because I snapped at the sight of one too many cheap as fuck swords
TG: theyll be giving out fistbumps like its fucking christmas at the strider residence
TT: Your interpretation of the situation does seem more logical.
TG: yeah
TT: Give what I said some consideration, though. It may not be too far off base.
TT: I have to go.
TG: didnt you say there was something you wanted to talk about?
TT: Yes, but it can wait.
TG: alright later

You sign off Pesterchum and spend the rest of the afternoon producing some ILL JAMS on your TURNTABLES. No sign of Bro or Lil Cal to speak of.

Time sure has a habit of flying by when you're not looking. Before you know it, it's dark outside your apartment complex. You're surprised Egbert hasn't started bugging you about this game yet. Maybe now would be a good time to launch another attempt to get the disk.

Dave: Attempt to retrieve disk again.

You venture out of your room, sidestepping a lone marionette hanging in the hallway. You keep your eyes peeled for your Bro, but you seem to be safe for now. All is quiet. You can't hear any sound from the living room, but that doesn't mean Bro or Cal isn't there. You slide along the wall and peer around the corner.

Your Bro is sitting on the futon with one arm around Cal who's splayed out next to him, limbs akimbo. Bro is looking at Cal, but Cal's face is turned in your direction, and you get the eerie feeling that Cal knows you're there.

This mission's doomed; you'll have to wait until tomorrow to get the disk. You begin to back away down the hall when –

"You think I'm bein' too hard on him, Cal?"

You freeze, senses on fucking red alert, but your Bro doesn't appear to have noticed you.

Your Bro removes his cap and runs a hand through his hair before replacing it and continuing.

"Dave's a good kid, but someday he's going to have to be more than just good, you know?"

Bro's talking to Cal, but Cal's still looking at you. You can practically feel Cal's cockeyed gaze penetrating your shades. It's a little unsettling.

"He might not know it now, but soon he'll have much bigger things to worry about than a sword fight or two. Cal – ," Bro turns Cal's head so he can look Cal in the glassy blue eyes, "One day he's going to have to succeed where I'm going to fail. One day he's going to be even better than me."

Is that a fucking tear you see glinting behind your Bro's shades?

"And you know what?"

Your Bro smiles with something like a mix of pride and sadness.

"I think he already is."

Your Bro's getting pretty worked up. It looks like he and Cal are having some sort of moment. Time to scram.

Dave: Return to your Room

You return to your room, giving the marionette in the hallway a stoic nod as you walk by.

It looks like Rose and John have been pestering you again, but you ignore them for the time being. You're not really sure what to think about what you've just witnessed. You decide to put it out of your mind for now.

You open a blank session on your mixing software and continue to compose ILL JAMS late into the night.

AN: Once upon a time I wrote a terrible fic. In the beginning I had meant it to be serious, but then I attempted to write it in the style of Homestuck and it did not turn out well. Plus, the pacing is bad and the ending is flat. Whoops.