Yeah, he's having the mildest breakdown ever. Mild for him, anyway, when normally he's be vicious, or violent. Right now he's just... Tired. Bone tired in a way he's never been. Shit. This is stupid. This is so much. Were there versions of him that were better? Worse? He's not sure he wants to know.

"He ain't," Dirk agrees, voice low and slow. "I ain't afraid, just--unsettled. Don't know what's me and what's not." He makes a sound at the stupid kamehameha comment, rolling his eyes behind his glasses before closing them. "This place is weird as shit. Not only am I alive, the other day a tiny skeleton sat on me and told me bad jokes while I couldn't escape. I briefly reconsidered atheism in light of what was clearly a vengeful god punishing the shit out of me in the most ironic way possible."

It's such a stupid thing to say, but it's not emotions, which he doesn't want to think about. But Dave's commentary is right, at least. "Yeah. You're here." That's important, apparently. He thinks about Dave not hating Cal for a minute.

"Did you--" He pauses a minute. "You know what, fuck it, nevermind. I sure as shit don't want to know."