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Androids and Wet Socks

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Dirk was trying his best not to straight up murder someone due to the fact that the fates hated him. Well, this isnt the fates fault. They were just doing their jobs. It wasnt their fault the storm caused a small power outage in his apartment causing his alarm to reset and not wake him up causing him to skip breakfast, rush through his morning routine, barely have time to style his hair, skip his morning coffee cup, and he didnt even have time to check his text messages which was a bad idea due to the fact his phone was threatening to turn into a vibrator due to all of the text messages Roxy was sending him.
He had gotten a glimpse of what she was texting him about while he was running out the door and apparently, he was getting a partner today because hes a “loose cannon” and “a sociopath” and “horrifying” like what does ‘horrifying’ really mean, right? And who the fuck calls someone a ‘loose cannon’ unironically? But skipping the true philosophical meaning behind calling someone horrifying and the irony of calling someone a loose cannon, Dirk already hated his partner. He didnt know who they were or why they were being assigned to him but it was hard not to hate everything in life when your shoes are full of a ludicrous amount of water.

Everytime he took a step there was a slosh and a squealch. A few passerbys gave him sympathetic looks when they heard his shoes squishing and a few looked startled at the extremely disgusting noise.
Everything sucks.
He was wet, hungry, his socks were going to have to just straight up be burned, his hair was now completely soaking, his shades were near impossible to see through, his clothes clung to his body and weighed him down. Unfortunately, no one was kind enough to lend him an umbrella. Most likely due to the fact he had a permanent death glare on his face. He was pretty sure a few kids cried as he walked by just due to the pure death energy he was radiating.
It was times like this that made him so grateful his phone was waterproof and he kept some spare clothes at the station. Honestly, he had hoped he would only have to use that backup outfit because he was shot in the line of fire in a really cool way and needed clean clothes due to the blood but no. He was going to use his spare outfit because jesus himself took a big fat steaming shit on his day because Dirk sucked some dick occasionally...

At least, thats what he wouldve been told if he still lived in Texas.

Whatever. He got to the station and sighed. How was he going to approach this? He couldnt just walk in, he would track water everywhere. There wasnt any easy path to get to the locker rooms without spreading around the water that was clinging to his body for dear life. He could ask Roxy to get him a towel but his clothes would still be soaking wet. He could see if she had a hair dryer with her but a hair dryer would take too long to dry him. He could just book it to the locker rooms and just dry up the river he would leave behind him with a few towels then give the janitor his secret bar of dark chocolate he kept in his desk. Or he could call in sick and cry himself to sleep outside. Most of the water was in his shirt, he could just take that off.. Well, he could just get Roxy to grab him a towel, strip down to his boxers and just wrap the towel around himself then fucking book it to the locker rooms but that would probably get him fired. Hes already walked around the office without a shirt much too many times....
Which was once. That day a soda exploded on him and he decided shirts were social constructs anyway. But this isnt about that horrible day. This was about suddenly dropping twenty gallons of water and misery inside and make the janitor murder him. Before he could stew in his own mind more, he suddenly felt a bit of pressure on his head and a soft white color covered his eyes. Someone dumped a towel on his head. Apparently someone mustve seen him plotting while looking at the warm and dry inside.
He lifted the towel off his head and looked at his savior…. An android. Wearing a police uniform. With the name “HAL9000” over its left breast. Whoever named this android has either never took a history lesson before or had an amazing sense of humor. Either way, this android was giving him a curious look. “Hello, Dirk Strider. My name is Hal. Im your new partner.” It said and Dirk couldnt stop himself from making a disgusted look.