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EB: wait, really? are you serious?
CG: YEP. DAVE DOES *NOT* KNOW HOW TO MAKE A RANT. AT ALL.
John was dumbfounded. He paused to think about what Karkat had sent. Dave was known to say some pretty vile shit when things got rough, but ranting was out of his field? Something seemed suspicious, too suspicious to be a coincidence. He rapidly typed back.
EB: wait, what about that kanaya rant last week?
CG: DAVE WAS SO BAD AT IT THAT VRISKA OF ALL PEOPLE HAD TO TYPE IT OUT HERSELF.
EB: huh. wow.
CG: YEAH. THAT RANT IS WHAT WE CALL "LAME BULLSHIT."
EB: jeez. guess it was that bad, huh? maybe you could teach him a thing or two about ranting?
CG: *SIGH.* YOU HAVE. *NO* IDEA OF HOW MUCH I WENT THROUGH TEACHING MY DUMBASS BOYFRIEND ABOUT RANT CULTURE.
EB: oh dear. do you mind if i get popcorn?
CG: GO RIGHT THE FUCK AHEAD. IF ANYTHING, YOU'RE GONNA NEED THE ENTIRE CONCESSION FOR THIS ONE.
John stood up from his chair. This was about to be the biggest story Karkat's ever told since the whole "Sburb" incident. He walked out of his room and went downstairs to the kitchen. He grabbed some popcorn from the cupboard and put it in the microwave. After a little while, the microwave dinged. John got a bowl and poured the now hot popcorn into it. He walked upstairs back to his room and sat down at his computer desk, now with the bowl in his hands. He typed back, trying not to spill popcorn all over his keyboard.
EB: alright, i'm back.
CG: OKAY. SO, I INVITED DAVE OVER (cleverly disguised as a make-out session) AND PULLED HIM ASIDE TO DISCIPLINE HIM ABOUT THE PROCESS OF RANTING. THE DENSENESS OF THIS LAD WAS IN FULL FORCE. I SWEAR, IT WAS LIKE HE WAS DROPPED ON HIS HEAD IN KINDERGARDEN AND ATE GLUE EVER SINCE. SO, I HAD TO HAMMER IN THE BASIC RULES ABOUT RANTING AND HOW IT ALL WORKED. IT TOOK HIM HOURS JUST TO GET HIM THROUGH THE FIRST STEP. HOURS TURNED TO DAYS UPON DAYS OF PRACTICING HOW TO TARGET THE ISSUE, GET TO THE POINT, AND SO ON. AFTER WHAT FELT LIKE A WEEK HITTING A BRICK WALL OF DENSENESS, DAVE FINALLY APPEARED TO UNDERSTAND WHAT I WAS TRYING TO TELL HIM. HE STARTED TO WRITE RANTS THAT MIGHT AS WELL BE ENTIRE NOVELS THEMSELVES. WHEN THE TIME FINALLY CAME, I HAD THE RANT EXPERT (also known as vriska) CHALLENGE HIM TO AN HONORARY RANT-OFF. GUESS WHAT HE TYPES FIRST. JUST *FUCKING* GUESS.
John finished the last of the popcorn and sighed. He knew what was coming next, but he decided to play along anyway.
EB: i dunno, what?
CG: HE TYPED, AND I QUOTE "you smell".
John...was beyond disappointed. All of that dedication, training, and practice; all for a nonsense phrase.
EB: seriously.
CG: YEP. ALL OF THAT HARD WORK FLUSHED DOWN THE LOAD GAPER.
EB: so, is that why he doesn't do rants anymore?
CG: FORTUNATELY, YES. HE DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER WITH THOSE ANYMORE.
--turntechGodhead started pestering carcinoGeneticist and ectoBiologist at 1:57.--
TG: you guys talking shit about me
EB: ...
CG: ...
--carcinoGeneticist and ectoBiologist logged off.--
TG: well then
--turntechGodhead stopped pestering carcinoGeneticist and ectoBiologist.--