Bowman's bright idea has unexpected results.

IT HAS RECENTLY COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT INTERSPECIES RELATIONS ARE RAPIDLY DEVOLVING INTO SLOPPY MAKEOUTS THAT THREATEN TO BECOME DISGUSTINGLY MORE INTIMATE. IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP YOU IDIOTS FROM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT OVER WEIRD XENOBIOLOGY AND EMBARRASSING EVERYONE IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE, I HAVE COMPILED THIS GUIDE, WHICH SHOULD BE SHORT ENOUGH THAT EVEN THOSE OF YOU WITH THE ATTENTION SPANS OF SMALL INSECTS SHOULD BE ABLE TO READ IT ALL IN ONE SITTING.

Your moirail is something of a shambling disaster -- his hair is a tangled, frizzy mess, his clothes are tattered at the hems and grimy, and he could stand a wash or five himself. But it isn't, you've realized, that Gamzee doesn't want to care for himself, it's more that he doesn't know how to take care of himself well. You're not sure why, since he had access to the same schoolfeeding as everyone else, but maybe it was because he was alone too much for so long. Maybe it's hard to care, or know to care, when there's no one to fuss over you.

"The first watch keeps the correct time. Always. Terezi tried starting out of sync the third time they played this game, but without that one thread of the right beat to cling to, the grating wrongness of the other watches knocked Dave out of the mood long before he could hit trance state." Terezi/Dave, idiosycratic forms of bondage.

In which a mutant too famous to cull is dropped like a grenade into the midst of the peace process, a foolish monarch proves himself secretly shrewd, the power of friendship functions as a force multiplier, and it is discovered that in the Great Game of espionage, the dealer does not always win.

There are some things you have to do as a friendleader, and some you have to do as a friend. Sometimes, it's the same thing.

"They just watch," John says, kicking the mop bucket into the broom closet after a hard day's asteroid-cleaning. "I guess chores are like a spectator sport for trolls? It's pretty weird! But... that's trolls for you!"

“Okay,” he says, “Do it again.” “—————,” replies Karkat.

The whole thing starts with Stiles' naked body, which is, apparently, "perfect."

"Yo. S'obvious our previous tricks aren't gonna work the same anymore, so let's open the floor to suggestions."

Sam thumps his forehead with his fist. "Should've bought the Fiesta. It had racing stripes."