Dumb Crossing - Tealy and the Crew

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Continued from Durr, Nice Moves

"Durr, I learned it from Dumb Crossing," DumbDird said, nodding with the quiet confidence of a tenured professor.

Tealy slowly turned to look at him. "Dumb Crossing."

"Durr, yeah."

"That's not a thing."

"Durr, yes it is."

"DumbDird," Tealy said, setting down his soda with the careful energy of someone trying very hard not to spiral, "Animal Crossing is a thing. Dumb Crossing is not a thing. It does not exist."

DumbDird reached into his pants and pulled out a laptop.

Tealy stared.

The pants had no pockets. He could see that clearly. There were definitively, visibly, no pockets anywhere on those pants. He had known DumbDird long enough to know that asking follow-up questions was essentially self-harm, but his brain couldn't just let it go.

"Where did that come from."

"Durr, my pants."

"Your pants don't have pockets."

DumbDird looked down at his pants. Looked at the laptop. Looked back up at Tealy with an expression of total calm.

"Durr, yeah."

Tealy picked up his soda again. He needed something to hold.

DumbDird flipped open the laptop with a quiet creak, the screen flickering to life with the particular glow of a machine that had also been through some things. He turned it around and held it up like he was presenting evidence in court.

It was a Scratch game.

The title screen read, in large chunky letters using the default Scratch font:

DUMB CROSSING

by DumbDird

There was a road. That was it. Just a road, going horizontally across the screen. A little character stood on one side.

Tealy leaned forward slightly despite himself. "...What do you do."

"Durr, you press space."

"And then?"

"Durr, you cross the road."

"And then?"

"Durr," DumbDird said, "you crossed the road."

Tealy stared at him. "That's the whole game."

"Durr, yeah."

"There's nothing else."

"Durr, no."

"No score. No timer. No other levels. You just. Press space. And cross the road."

"DURR, YES!" DumbDird said, beaming like Tealy had finally understood something profound. "And it teaches you the headstand! That's why I'm good at yoga now!"

Tealy looked at the Scratch game. He looked at DumbDird. He looked back at the game, where the little character stood patiently at the edge of the road, waiting for someone to press space and complete the entire experience.

"There is no yoga in this game," Tealy said slowly. "There is a road. There is a character. There is a spacebar. That is the complete list of things in this game."

"Durr, you have to read between the lines, Tally."

"It's a Scratch game with a ROAD—"

"Durr, it has really good reviews."

Tealy stopped. He should not ask. He knew he should not ask. Every functioning brain cell he had was screaming at him to not ask.

"...Who reviewed it."

DumbDird turned the laptop back around, scrolled down with great ceremony, and held it up again.

There was one comment on the Scratch project.

It was from an account called SuperDumbDird.

It said: "durr good game cousin very deep 5 stars"

Tealy stood up, walked to the kitchen, stood there for about fifteen seconds doing nothing, and walked back.

DumbDird was still holding up the laptop, smiling peacefully.

"I'm going to need more snacks," Tealy said, and sat back down.

"DURR!" DumbDird snapped the laptop shut and shoved it back into his pocketless pants. "ME TOO!"

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