Dirk: Warn Jane.
I should probably warn you. About what? Yet another exploding game trap? Well shit. She already sent it? Yes. But to be fair, she warned me not to run it. That's weird. [ CONTINUED PREVIOUSLY ] How is the Jane thing going? Not well. Roxy already destroyed her computer. Maybe if you weren't spacing out so hard you could have prevented that. Just saying. As if you're actually concerned. If you were, you could have said something to Jane instead. Almost like you enjoy sitting back and watching what happens when shit goes wrong. Has it occurred to you that maybe I have diabolical interwoven plans just like you? You're not the only one who can pull strings. So this is either another bizarre instance of AI-driven irony, or you are admitting that you are actively trying to sabotage my plans. No, our plans are not in contradiction or competition, bro. You'll see. Whatever. This means I'll have to improvise. I'll take over as Crocker's server while Lalonde cleans up her act. Yes, I know. Why are you still talking in red, by the way? Roxy thinks it looks good on me. I don't have many opinions on fashion since I am a cold, emotionless automaton who also happens to be an accessory of fashion, but I think she may be right. Are you still talking to her? I was for a while. I may yet again. Why are you blocking me from viewing the transcripts? What the fuck are you two even talking about? You, mostly. That doesn't really sit well with me. I'd almost rather you both engaged in "ironic" flirtation. Who says we don't do that too? Ugh. I don't get what is even your problem with that. Because you obviously do it just to piss me off. How do you know? You don't know me, dude. You don't know anything about me. Maybe we are perfect for each other. I, a street-smart, fast-talking application with a fuckzillion IQ trapped in a pair of triangular sunglasses that literally only the Japanese could consider to embody the Platonic ideal of "cool," and she, an oft-inebriated lonely hacker teen who just wants a boyfriend. I ran the numbers on this, trust me. It's a match made in goddamn crackpair heaven. I give her what you can't, and that just drives you crazy. Just admit it. See, it's lines like that which make it obvious your only intent is to jerk me around. Nobody actually says shit like that and is serious about it. It's also obvious because you're me, and I'm sure I would be constantly fucking with my own head if I were you. Touché. Or should I say douché? You shouldn't say the former, and you should definitely, never, under any circumstance, say the latter. Ok. We really should talk about the Jake thing. Fine.
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