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May. 6th, 2022 02:13 am
The jokes practically write themselves
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uber_marionettist[When the camera turns on, you're treated to the sight of two Dirks standing very close to one another, conferring in tight, agitated tones and gesturing at each other with short, heated motions. They're practically indistinguishable save for their clothing (they both wear black tank tops, but the logos are different), and the fact that one has an extra tattoo on his right deltoid and snakebites in his lip.
There's one other key difference: one is a ghost and the other isn't.
The Dirk with snakebites, who is notable for also being the Dirk that isn't a ghost, is the one that addresses the camera.]
Here's the deal.
This guy here is me, but, well, let's just say there was a Devil's Bargain to my Becoming and the price had to be paid by someone. Obviously, that someone was also me.
[The nature of the ghost phenomenon probably tells you all you need to know about what kind of a price needed to be paid.
Behind them, a flash of--something very fast blurs past, then stops just barely in range of the camera. It's... Dirk. Another Dirk. Dirk if he were at least seven inches taller, wore a baseball cap and neatly tucked, hellaciously starched popped-collar polo, and--uh, and disappeared again the instant you spotted him??
(Yes, it's this asshole. Or it was. He's gone now.)]
If you ask me, he actually got off easy, but since it was his dubiously-autonomous sacrifice that got me here, he's of the opinion that there are terms and conditions to our arrangement. Terms and conditions, he asserts, that I have been in violation of.
To some extent, he has a point. I have certain responsibilities pursuant to my station, including but by no means limited to the basic purposes and potentials that he believes I have been derelict in my duties to. My stance is, of course, that my performance has been exemplary and my self-care routine and work ethic have been in perfect balance the whole time. Morever, I would score my own metatextual analytics at a 10/10 and my adherence to previously established in-jokes and recurring gags while consistently producing new material at a solid 9.5/10. This chucklefuck, on the other hand, calls bullshit. Claims I haven't produced or affected shit because this isn't canon. (As if that's my fault.) That my maintenance of Self has been lacking, and the character themes and motivations that were left to me have desiccated and crumbled like so much dog shit on the pavement in the Texan sun. (If you don't know what a dog is, don't worry about it.) His evidence is the fact that I'm here, and also that I haven't made enough of a nuisance of myself trying to break down the fourth and fifth walls.
So I ask you, the audience... not that you're really the audience, of course, but for our intents and purposes, you're as good as we're going to get for one. I ask you.
Have I not worked my fucking ass off here? Have I not inconvenienced and endangered enough of you in my time?
[The ghost next to Dirk, which is to say the Dirk without snakebites but also without extra inches or a hat, crosses his arms while Dirk talks, at one point turning to look at Dirk instead of the camera and shake his head. At the point where the Dirk that isn't a ghost stops speaking, the ghost Dirk without snakebites (but again, without a polo shirt or extra inches) opens his mouth as though to speak.
Behind them, the tall Dirk with the hat and the lethally-starched polo shirt flash steps into the frame, and for the single second you can see him, appears to be staring directly at you, but since, compared to the other Dirks, he has an equally unreadable, impassive mien, and equally reflective sunglasses, it's..... uh. Hard to tell. And then he's gone again. And the camera cuts off.
Well! Get your votes in now, folks. How excruciating has the Ultimate Dirk of Dirks made himself to share a reality with?And does this score points in his favour, or against him?]
There's one other key difference: one is a ghost and the other isn't.
The Dirk with snakebites, who is notable for also being the Dirk that isn't a ghost, is the one that addresses the camera.]
Here's the deal.
This guy here is me, but, well, let's just say there was a Devil's Bargain to my Becoming and the price had to be paid by someone. Obviously, that someone was also me.
[The nature of the ghost phenomenon probably tells you all you need to know about what kind of a price needed to be paid.
Behind them, a flash of--something very fast blurs past, then stops just barely in range of the camera. It's... Dirk. Another Dirk. Dirk if he were at least seven inches taller, wore a baseball cap and neatly tucked, hellaciously starched popped-collar polo, and--uh, and disappeared again the instant you spotted him??
(Yes, it's this asshole. Or it was. He's gone now.)]
If you ask me, he actually got off easy, but since it was his dubiously-autonomous sacrifice that got me here, he's of the opinion that there are terms and conditions to our arrangement. Terms and conditions, he asserts, that I have been in violation of.
To some extent, he has a point. I have certain responsibilities pursuant to my station, including but by no means limited to the basic purposes and potentials that he believes I have been derelict in my duties to. My stance is, of course, that my performance has been exemplary and my self-care routine and work ethic have been in perfect balance the whole time. Morever, I would score my own metatextual analytics at a 10/10 and my adherence to previously established in-jokes and recurring gags while consistently producing new material at a solid 9.5/10. This chucklefuck, on the other hand, calls bullshit. Claims I haven't produced or affected shit because this isn't canon. (As if that's my fault.) That my maintenance of Self has been lacking, and the character themes and motivations that were left to me have desiccated and crumbled like so much dog shit on the pavement in the Texan sun. (If you don't know what a dog is, don't worry about it.) His evidence is the fact that I'm here, and also that I haven't made enough of a nuisance of myself trying to break down the fourth and fifth walls.
So I ask you, the audience... not that you're really the audience, of course, but for our intents and purposes, you're as good as we're going to get for one. I ask you.
Have I not worked my fucking ass off here? Have I not inconvenienced and endangered enough of you in my time?
[The ghost next to Dirk, which is to say the Dirk without snakebites but also without extra inches or a hat, crosses his arms while Dirk talks, at one point turning to look at Dirk instead of the camera and shake his head. At the point where the Dirk that isn't a ghost stops speaking, the ghost Dirk without snakebites (but again, without a polo shirt or extra inches) opens his mouth as though to speak.
Behind them, the tall Dirk with the hat and the lethally-starched polo shirt flash steps into the frame, and for the single second you can see him, appears to be staring directly at you, but since, compared to the other Dirks, he has an equally unreadable, impassive mien, and equally reflective sunglasses, it's..... uh. Hard to tell. And then he's gone again. And the camera cuts off.
Well! Get your votes in now, folks. How excruciating has the Ultimate Dirk of Dirks made himself to share a reality with?And does this score points in his favour, or against him?]
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