Dasch: are you ever gonna take out trash.
Dude: there's still room left.
Dasch: it's gonna explode.
Dude: not using my knowhow.
Dasch: how does it work.
Dude: you gotta dip your foot into trash bag. pedal it down. stretch it out. now we have immortal trashbag.
Dasch: you are making a ticking bomb.
Dude: trust me. it's been there forever. it will always be there.
Dasch: hope you know ticking bombs explode when you least expect it.
Dude: you just close your eyes. give it little prayer. it will never betray you.
Dasch: you just wait. keep growing that bomb.
Dude: it has lived with me all these years. it's like my roommate.
Dasch: perhaps it will outlive you.
Dude: we can speculate all day long.
Dasch: one day your roommate will turn into a gruesome mess. you won't be able to say goodbye.
Dude: my trash won't give up so easily on me. we've created unbreakable bond.
Dasch: your excuse overwhelms all human common sense. i no longer have any option but to embrace you the way you are with this garbage mess.
Dude: it's not a garbage until it's thrown out. watch your words and how you treat it.
Dasch: in fact, what ever becomes thrown out of your room?
Dude: that which does not belong here with me.
Dasch: then is everything outside this room a garbage?
Dude: i can't be so sure about so many thins all at once.
Dasch: what is this sudden hesitance. this isn't you.
Dude: look. what's out there can be in this room as much as out there.
Dasch: does that mean what's in this room can be out there as much as in this room?
Dude: you mocking my lifestyle choice about my room and roommate? tricking me into kicking out my roommate?
Dasch: just asking how this works out. that's all. no need to anger.
Dude: i thought so. mind what you say. remind you. you are in my room.
Dasch: you sound like a lonely dictator who has no one to tell him any truth.
Dude: there can be no truth. i'm the truth. the one with the truth is always lonely, and one and only. no one dares to see me. how dare they. these weaklings can't handle sheer weight of my truth.
Dasch: no deny. you got no people around. for sure.
Dude: except for you. you curious and enigmatic creep. so far i haven't got my head wrapped around you. your untimely intrusions, random appearances. you're unwelcomed but cherish your time allowed in this sanctuary. it shouldn't be long that you be banished. this is my fortified castle.
Dasch: quite the contrary. the gate is unmistakably flung open like your zip. i cruise in and out like a drive thru. i can easily rob this place empty. there's nothing to rob but trash out here.
Dude: this room does not need any more of your nonstop jibber-jabber. your mouth is what's infesting my room with chaos and madness.
Dasch: i'm the last silver lining to save you from this antiquated shithole. you're a dancing pig bathed in puddle of murky muds.
Dude: you risk losing your being here. it's very near your throat. you may have last remarks. that's your last chance to save your voice being muted.
Dasch: your blank threats are soft like flurry feathers. scattering into snowflakes by blow of my whistle. you stand like a melting snowman bathing in slow death of merciless sunlight. children have left. winter is ending. passing cars are splashing black slurry of ice. no one will miss you. just like the last winter. another one before that. so on, so forth. not even vultures will visit. there will be no remains of you. you will simply evaporate into nothing much. yes. that's all that you are. not even anything but nothing. this is your wake up call.
Dude: forget all the craps you shamelessly sprayed and squirted all over. what disgusting filthy foul mouth you have. you're reincarnation of poop plunger. pumping feces rhythmically. never knowing when to stop or how dirty it has become. just joyously pumping away to eternity. your grip never gets loose. you can't get enough of it. your body shaped like a brown wiener poop. the more you plunge, the harder and longer your shit body gets. a plunging wiener poop longing for its own poop counterpart. your snout made elastic and rough like the rubber tip of plunger. what unspeakably massive crap you are like a crumbling tower of babel. people screaming and evacuating for their lives in macrocosmic exodus. you babbling shit talker. what am i supposed to do with unprecedented shit like you.
Dasch: eye for eye, tooth for tooth. you made a commendable comeback. you're worthy of my hostility and enmity. no enemy has ever stood my tongue-lashing so unafflicted. to my greatest disappointment, you leaked no sweat, no tear, and no blood. i don't know you are made of. a human so unhuman. this is no acknowledgement of my defeat. trigger has been pulled and fired. none hit. this is gonna be an everlasting duel. there may well be no last stander.
Dude: to be honest, just to cut all the poetic crap and keep it real. you're gonna die before i do. it's obvious. you're a dog. you're not gonna live that long.
Dasch: freaking moron, you were supposed to answer with literary arsenal. you ruined the whole climax.
Dude: dude, it was too long. my brain was hurting too. next time, you cut it short.
Dasch: well, at least, this counts as your defeat.
Dude: dude, i don't care i'm gonna live older than you. you can win all the time. i'm gonna have the last win whatsoever. that's all that's needed.
Dasch: man, you ruin the whole freakin' contest we built up. now nothing much is at stake.
Dude: there's really one way only. you just gotta somehow manage to live older than me.
Dasch: easier said than done. there's some hope though. i'm a special case. you know. i can communicate. so unlike other dogs, i might be able to live very long.
Dude: not here to give you false hope. but that doesn't sound impossible to me.
Dasch: plus we can't miss a possibility that you're gonna live mad short.
Dude: dude, you're death-wishing me. i didn't death-wish you. what the hell man. we were having a break.
Dasch: honestly, we never have any rules. even if we did, we can't care. so don't blame me for lowering your guard.
Dude: well let me remind you again, you're not gonna live long. you're just a dog.
Dasch: you're not gonna live long. you're just gonna die soon. whether you're human or not.
Dude: you're just gonna die today.
Dasch: but you're gonna die right before me.
Dude: i'm going to kill you.
Dasch: that's gonna fail and i'm going to kill you.
Dude suddenly stands up. Dasch stands on his four, his tail tensed up. Dude looks around the room. Dasch follows his gaze. Dude finds a green Chinese liquor bottle and walks over to reach out his hand. Dude almost grabs a whole grip but Dasch dashes and bites Dude's hand. The bottle flies out of Dude's hand. It hits a window and shatters into pieces. Dasch starts barking, teasing and laughing at Dude, and exits the room, luring Dude. Pissed off, Dude chases after Dasch going into a living room. Dude's father, Mr. Dude, is watching a TV show on his laptop with earbuds on. Dasch jumps on Mr. Dude's lab. Dude stands there staring at Dasch. Mr. Dude takes off one of the earbuds.
Mr. Dude: son, didn't you hear something?
Dude: i don't think so, dad.
Mr. Dude: huh strange.
Dude: yeah, it might be the earbuds. maybe some sound effect from the show.
Mr. Dude: hmm.
Mr. Dude resumes the show, softly patting Dasch. Dasch licks Mr. Dude's chin. Dude shakes his head and heads to the room.
Dude: this dog is a multi personality monster.
Dasch waits several minutes to check on Dude's return. Convinced and secured, Dasch goes under Mr. Dude's desk, lies down in a bookshelf, and slumbers in peace.