» Chapter 12

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---- From chapter 39, Text Me Back ----

W: Is it time for the monthly Dizzle and Rizzle liveshizzle yet?
D: It's time for the monthly Dizzle and Rizzle liveshizzle.

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The camera zoomed in too far, only Dick and Roy's chests visible before it zoomed out again, this time too far, revealing the grand fireplace their chairs were in front of.

"...there we go," Wally was saying quietly, his voice a little distorted as the camera finally caught up to what was happening and zoomed in again, perfectly framing the shot.

Dick was relaxing on an arm chair that had been dragged out of place into a position of his choosing, sitting criss-cross on the chair with his laptop balancing on his thighs. His hair was dyed a nice shade of blue, and there was a dark, almost purple bruise high on his cheek. Despite that, he was smiling cheekily at the camera, entirely in his element.

Roy was sitting next to Dick, hurriedly smothering a cigarette in an expensive-looking ash-tray. There was the sounds of sirens and yelling in the background, someone obviously watching tv at a half-loud volume behind the camera. Despite the background noise, it seemed professional.

"Dude," Roy complained loudly, "I didn't say I was ready yet!"

Dick, entirely unapologetic, turned his smile on Roy, "That's what you get for smoking inside!"

"You-" Roy started, only to cut himself off  as he finally focused on the camera and the hundreds of comments appearing on Dick's laptop and realized they were live.

"Welcome to the party bitc- bitcoins," Roy said, arranging himself on the chair, almost as comfortable on camera as Dick.

"Why 'bitcoins' and not 'bitches'?" Dick read suddenly from the screen, looking up at the camera- and Wally behind it- over the top of his laptop. "We try not to use words derogatory to women," he answers, somehow managing to give off the impression of verbally end the sentence with a :) without actually smiling that may come off as threatening depending on the person reading it.

After a second, he adds, "Royboy sucks at it, but he's leaning via behavioural therapy."

"He means they peer pressure me and throw spoons at me," Roy amends, rubbing a suspiciously spoon-shaped mark on his forearm.

"You'd think he'd learn," Dick shook his head in mock-disappointed, sounding greatly amused.

"All I'm saying," Roy started, his tone making it clear that this was an argument had many times over, "is that as the biggest slut of all, I should be allowed to say slut! It's my own title!"

A spoon appeared in Dick's hands seemingly out of nowhere, and he moved to whack Roy with it, stoping just in time to avoid actually hitting him. He hummed, considering.

"Chat?" He asked after a moment. Immediately responses poured in, filling his screen. He skimmed the page, looking for the general consensus, and nodding slowly, as if having a deep, philosophical debate with the one-to-twelve word comments.

A few seconds later, he announced, "Roy is cleared for slut!" to the room.

There was scattered applause from around the room, and over top of it Jason's voice; "If that's the case, Timmy should be cleared for whinny little bitch- ow."

Dick rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as Jason and Tim glared at each other from where they were basically cuddling on the couch a few feet behind Wally and the camera.

Roy gave a lopsided grin and, with absolute glee, restated, "Welcome to the party sluts."

"Anyway-" Dickie moved on, pausing to take a sip from a label-free water bottle, "-what Roy said. Uh, if you're new, this is our monthly Dizzle and Rizzle liveshizzle, obviously, I'm the Dizzle and Roy is the Rizzle." Dick gestured to himself and Roy respectively with the lip of his water bottle as he spoke, before looking back at Wally, who was holding cue-cards above the camera.

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