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Dirk Strider wants Jake English.
He wants his messy black hair, his green eyes, his professional square-framed glasses; his stocky yet still lean body, his sun-kissed skin, his dorky buck teeth. He wants his weird half-British half-Australian accent, his nerdy old-timey lingo comprised of archaic slang from late 19th century like "dangnabbit" and "kerfuffle" and "spanking ripsnorter", his obsession with the color blue, and his passion for fisticuffs.
Dirk Strider has a problem.
Dirk Strider wants Jake English, his best friend.
"No one's safe, Strider," Roxy tells him. "He goes all 'bang bang double pisticks-"
"Pistols."
"Straight to your heart."
But he takes everything Roxy says with a grain of salt, because Roxy's mind is a festering vat of mutated cats drowning in martini soup.
Dirk Strider has a problem.
Dirk Strider wants Jake English, his best friend.
But Jake English is not a homosexual.
He wants his messy black hair, his green eyes, his professional square-framed glasses; his stocky yet still lean body, his sun-kissed skin, his dorky buck teeth. He wants his weird half-British half-Australian accent, his nerdy old-timey lingo comprised of archaic slang from late 19th century like "dangnabbit" and "kerfuffle" and "spanking ripsnorter", his obsession with the color blue, and his passion for fisticuffs.
Dirk Strider has a problem.
Dirk Strider wants Jake English, his best friend.
"No one's safe, Strider," Roxy tells him. "He goes all 'bang bang double pisticks-"
"Pistols."
"Straight to your heart."
But he takes everything Roxy says with a grain of salt, because Roxy's mind is a festering vat of mutated cats drowning in martini soup.
Dirk Strider has a problem.
Dirk Strider wants Jake English, his best friend.
But Jake English is not a homosexual.