So Just To Provide A Rousing Update Of My Current Circumstances I Am Indeed Still Trapped In Here With The Mother Grub
… Would you like assistance?
HAVE WE RULED OUT EMBARRASSMENT AS A FACTOR, YET. SURELY THIS FUCK-ENORMOUS WIGGLER FACTORY WANTS TO LEAVE AND HAVE SLUDGE FOR DINNER, OR SOMETHING.
Embarrassment Is Actually My Leading Theory At The Moment There Isnt Anything In Her Countenance That Would Suggest Pain Or Oncoming Illness But Despite That She Is Being Really Evasive Of My Attempts To Engage With Her Or Maybe This Is Just Her Latent Stand-Up Comedy Intolerance At Play
At what point do you stop simply allowing her to have a tantrum and take control of the situ8tion yourself? You can't just 8e trapped in there with her, c'mon.
I HATE TO AGREE WITH VRISKA. *ON PRINCIPLE.* EVEN ON PAIN OF DEATH BY BEING QUARTERED AND DRAWN BY CARNIVOROUS HOOFBEASTS. AND THEN HUCKED INTO A FLAMING SPIKE PIT. FILLED WITH SYPHILIS. BUT FOR ONCE, I THINK SHE'S RIGHT. THIS IS LITERALLY YOUR WHOLE THING. I THINK YOU CAN DIFFUSE A MOTHER GRUB'S MOODY FAUX PAS ABOUT SLAMMING HER FAT, FUCKING ABDOMEN WHERE IT WOULDN'T FIT. I DON'T KNOW ANYONE WHO CAN SUTURE THE WOUND IN THAT EGO AS DEFTLY AS YOU. JUST BECAUSE IT'S AWKWARD DOESN'T MEAN IT'S IMPOSSIBLE. JUST SUCK IT UP. GO OVER THERE AND RELATE WITH HER. TELL HER ABOUT A TIME YOU FUMBLED SOMETHING IN FRONT OF ROSE. MAKE IT FUNNY. FUCK.
To Be Clear Her Thorax Has Taken Up Just About The Entirety Of The Tunnelway So If Youre Suggesting Id Be Better Off Folding Myself Until Rendered Flat Enough To Shimmy Around Some Dubious Side Of Her Then Thats Going To Be A No Ive Already Considered That
Wow If You Personally Werent Making A Reasonable Point Here I Might Stand To Feel A Little Bit Betrayed Right Now But You Do Have A Point Im Trying Though Karkat Its Just Been Hours And Im Worried I Might Make It Worse Things Are Fraught Enough That Im Even Considering Calling The Fire Department
KANAYA. KANAYA, LISTEN TO ME. I AM TELLING THIS TO YOU BECAUSE I *GET* YOU. IF I KNEW THAT MY SURVIVAL COUNTED ON WHETHER OR NOT MY SUPREME MOIRAILLEGIANCE SKILLS COULD GET ME OUT OF A LIFE-OR-DEATH-BY-SLOW-TURGID-SUFFOCATION-TYPE SITUATION? I WOULD BE NERVOUS, TOO. BUT YOU HAVE GOT TO REMEMBER WHAT THE FIRE DEPARTMENT *MEANS.* MEN. BIG MEN. BIG, RIPPLING MEN, WITH THEIR SWEAT-DRENCHED PECS AND THEIR CHIN-STRAP BEARDS AND THEIR ALMIGHTY FUCKITUDINALLY REPELLANT *MANNISHNESS.* THERE WILL BE *MEN* IN YOUR CAVERN, KANAYA. THE CAVERN THAT *YOU* ARE IN. NEAR *YOU.* SAPPHO LESBOS *HERSELF* WOULD BE SAD. AND THE ONES THAT *AREN'T* AS MANNISH? THE ONES YOU MIGHT CATCH A RIPPLING, SWEAT-DRENCHED WINK FROM? THAT MIGHT BE ALL IT TAKES. TO MAKE YOU A *HIVEWRECKER.* AND YOU'RE BETTER TO THAT. YOU WOULDN'T DO THAT TO YOUR STUPID HUMAN WIFE. SO GET IN THERE. AND PALE YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS.
HANG ON WAIT I'M SORRY I DID'T PROOFREAD THAT LAST PART OF THE CHITT BEFORE I SENT IT. NO. WAIT.