Your name is DAVE STRIDER and holy shit why is it so hot in here.
As you were saying. Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you are 15 years old. Two years ago… actually, you don’t recall anything special happening two years ago, unless you count developing disdain for your guardian’s BEST PUPPET PAL. You got over it with time, though.
As expected of a 15-year-old boy on his summer vacation, you have spent your day doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. If you could take a college course on doing nothing you would PASS WITH FLYING COLORS. You would get a DOCTORATE on doing nothing. You’re just the best there is at it.
Oh. Seems like the DOORBELL has other plans for you that involve doing SOMETHING. Like checking who’s ringing said doorbell like their life depended on it. It can’t possibly be your BRO. He won’t be home for a few more hours, and he definitely wouldn’t ring the doorbell like A COMPLETE TOOL.
Wow they’re still ringing. Pretty desperate over there. Might as well humor them.
Better look through the PEEPHOLE first. Last time you opened the door without checking, you were subject to the SUPER SOAKER ASSAULT of the bratty half-pint whose family recently moved to the apartment next door. It would have been UTTERLY HUMILIATING, had you not trained under your Bro’s wing since you were small. But you ARE a trained fighting machine, and the brat was quickly apprehended and brought to his parents for GREAT JUSTICE— I mean, a harsh scolding. After you DANGLED HIM OVER THE EDGE OF THE ROOF. He won’t be bothering you for as long as he lives.
Still. Peephole. Good idea. Let’s just take a quick peek-
Who the HELL is this douchebag?