[Dirk makes a soft sound that's almost a laugh, more of a huffing scoff that puffs out into the air in a cloud of frosty condensation. It should sting. It should, but it doesn't. He plants his back to the wall of the building and closes his eyes for a moment.]

I think I'm years too far into this shit to be dealing with your fucking temper tantrums, Dave. [The back of his head hits the brick, lightly.]

And I think I'm Dirk fucking Strider, and you aren't going to stick around, because you never do, so why should I give a rat's ass what you want?