nick is at it again. he is ranting and raving about something. about what? who can even remember at this point? he could be ranting about “coal farms,” about the “inception of writing,” or about “the die” having been “casted.” the point is, he is ranting. and as he is nearing the end he punctuates his rant, referring to it as his “diatribe” for good measure.
suddenly, our hero perks up. he senses that something terrible has just happened. in fact, it is not so terrible, but a common occurrence. nick has misspoken, butchering the english language in a way that only he can. our hero focuses his attention on the use of the word “diatribe.” he’s seen it used before, perhaps on comedy central, perhaps on the cartoon network. and he’s seen words similar to it, like “dialogue” or “dichotomy.” and he knows what the prefix “di” means. it means two! and thus, a “diatribe” can only happen between two people! yes, he’s got it, he finally figured out where nick had gone wrong! now it was time to assert his intellectual dominance.
“nick, you dumbass. a diatribe can only happen between two people. what you just did was more like a monologue or a soliloquy. you know, the prefix di? as in two? as in dialogue?” for good measure, our hero wants to throw in the word “dumbass” a second time, but figures it might be overkill. so he does in his head. dumbass.
nick is confused. “oh really?” yes, really. dumbass. our hero feels content.
“yeah, nick, he’s right,” chimes in a third voice from the table. “everything that starts with ‘di’ involves two people. you know, like diarrhea?”
our hero perks up, in alarm. did i just make a mistake? are there some words that start with di but do not mean two? no, there is no way, he reassures himself. that was just a joke. not very funny, but a joke nonetheless.