Who is Chud Kirk?

Kirk wandered university campuses like a lone NPC stuck on a side quest, microphone in hand, eyes scanning for opponents who never quite spawned. He asked questions anyway. He answered them himself.

A student passed by wearing headphones. Kirk nodded gravely.
“Interesting point,” he said into the mic. “But you’re wrong.”

Another student stopped briefly, checked the time, and kept walking. Kirk smiled.
“Notice how they disengage when confronted with facts,” he announced to no one.

His true talent wasn’t persuasion, it was post-victory analysis. Every empty quad became a battlefield. Every silence, a concession. When the camera rolled, the absence of challengers transformed into proof of total dominance.

At night, he reviewed the footage. In his mind, the debates were electric: crowds stunned, arguments shattered, truth standing tall.

In reality, the screen showed him alone under a tree, triumphantly nodding at pigeons.

“Another win,” he said, clicking upload.