The Banjo watched fifteen second Dave with skepticism, the skepticism of wood, twangy notes, and tight metal strings, the suspicion skin has for thorns, the care deer bring with them when they’re asked kindly to drink from this hole.
The Banjo felt another Dave just beyond range, a time splitting Dave who might appear, pluck, then disappear. Maybe using the Banjo as a messaging tool. Leap in, pluck. E for plot A, B for conveying a more sinister path. And what would Dave agree to? How could The Banjo stop thirty second Dave from hitting the string and thus preventing the deaths of millions.
