“I’m probably not going to like you, and you’re definitely not going to like me,” she says, all in an urgent rush, “but circumstances being what they are I do believe we need each other.” She holds up a piece of paper: your ad, printed out. One room8 needed, ASAP!!!!!!!! (Alternatively: Rose Lalonde, Vriska Serket, and the bodies left in their wake.)

doesn’t a glory hole sort of defeat the purpose of you being hot and blond and me wearing glasses? In which John has his first real homocrush and does stupid shit in effort to alleviate it.