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CG: SO THIS IS THE FIRST VIDEO POST OF THE BUNCH.

So, ummmmmm.

[ Cue a teenage boy addressing the network! Well, he's sort of like a teenage boy, if teenage boys were grey and had sharp nails and tiny candy corn horns. There are bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept in about, uh, a decade, and he rubs at one of them in irritation, his lips peeling back into a bit of a snarl. ]

What gives? Exactly? I sign up for one thing and get a-fucking-nother? What the everloving turd is up with that? Oh, hey, guys, Karkat's showed up, let's all change the rules and move everything around and really confuse everyone and shit! Haha! Thank you and fuck you very kindly!

[ He pauses a beat, face still screwed up into something irritated - 'tch', he punctuates everything with a glance off to the side and seems to be thinking hard about something. ]

I'm going to look for apple juice. Because I know some asshole and he never shuts the actual bleeding fuck up about apple juice. If I can find anything on this thing!!

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[Wow he's so pointy. Best. Cassel's actually grinning despite the circumstances.]

Yeah, it's all a conspiracy against you.

[Grumpy kitchen staff is grumpy.]

Yeah, we usually keep the food in the cafeteria.

[ Karkat is not grinning. Karkat is anti-grin and taking this sarcasm at face value. ]

That's what I'm saying! What kind of bullshit invitation is that?

[ Karkat deadpans in return: ]

Oh, wow, food in a cafeteria; here, let me download that novel concept that never occurred to me before in the first place.

I don't know, man, maybe you should write a letter of complaint?

So why don't you come the fuck over, happy to give you directions once you tell me where you actually are, and see if we have some.

Priorities. This guy has 'em.

[Barbara is officially Tired Of This Shit, but Karkat is kind of like an angry kitten, and she finds herself smiling a little.]

Kitchen's on level one. Have you seen your room number?

You don't understand the letters of complaints that I can scribe. They are fucking novellas, testaments of hatred to guilty parties who are in dire need of their own comeuppance! I don't fuck around with letters of complaint!

I might have to.

Don't think... "fuck you" counts as kindly.

[Just sayin'.]

Fucked if I know. The second level somewhere?? I'm trying to find my damn room. Shit, this place is confusing.

Making the cafeteria where?

Damn. Testaments of hatred. You know I don't think anyone's tried that one yet? Mostly it's just been a lot of impotent yelling. Write an opus, see what happens.

Long story short: shenanigans.

I've got applejuice in my fridge though. It's pretty much the only nice place left on this stupid boat.

One floor away. Marked double doors on level one.

[Iris is still in shock, partly from being randomly teleported and demoted, but mostly from having her TARDIS disappear. Karkat cheers her up a little, because she loves anyone that gets pissy and combative in a crisis and because he's the second of his species she's met and she adored the first one.]

'Ello, poppet. I'm afraid you arrived at a bit of a bad time. I don't think I've got any apple juice, but I've still got gin an' lemon.

I'm sorry. This is a surprise to all of us.

Really? [ Damn, how can nobody have done the crabby customer type dealio yet? He looks even more persuaded. ]

See, that's how you get shit done. Wrigglers will sing songs of this. Quaking in their very boots. Opus, more like op- me.

And you say they supposedly have this- lauded fruit nectar there? I don't want to be wasting my time.

I have priorities coming out of every sphincter I own, pal!

Well, come on. You can't sign up some asshole for one thing and then give a complete other. How's a guy supposed to get used to anything at any time?

Do you want your awesomeness set to music? I can get started on the melody.

See? Fucking helpful. That's all I ask.

[ He makes a face, scrubbing irritably at the back of his head. ] Somethingy something level two. Tell me, was it purposeful to make this thing labyrinthine or is that just to piss off the new fuckheads around town?

Well, for goodness' sake, it's not like I said 'viciously, with a chainsaw'. They just need to go fuck themselves gently in their own corner.

Oh, well, thank you very much, my eyes have been thoroughly fucking opened on this matter. [ Can you hear that sarcasm? It's potent. ]

What's so nice about a dumb room? No, you know what, tell me: Is this supposed ambrosia so fantastic as I've been hearing? Because I've heard songs (read: whinings) of it crowed for fucking days in my general direction.

Oh, just my goddamn luck. Let's rain an entire army of shitcakes down upon the new Karkat, way to go, guys!

[ He's never heard of gin before and it reads in his expression, a careful beat of pause before he answers slowly. ] O- kayyyy, is that similar?

Is this a regular type thing? Spring mountains of shit upon the vessel and its unsuspecting passengers?

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