[An INCREDIBLY ANGRY TROLL is sitting at a
STRANGE STAND in the oft-mentioned CENTER OF CAMP. A SNOW MACHINE is sitting behind him, sending out seemingly-infinite amounts of MISTLETOE into the sky, to fall around Camp, and to make things EXTREMELY AWKWARD. However, surprisingly, none of it seems to be landing near the STRANGE STAND.]
OKAY, I FUCKING HATE YOU ALL.
YOU ARE BRAINLESS LITTLE ASSHOLES, AND I WOULD RATHER REPEATEDLY PERFORATE MY BONE BULGE WITH A FORK THAN TALK TO YOU.
NOW THAT THE PLEASANTRIES ARE OUT OF THE WAY.
I APPARENTLY CAN'T LEAVE THIS FUCKING THING UNTIL I'VE TALKED TO SOME OF YOU ASSHOLES AND GOTTEN YOU THROUGH YOUR RIDICULOUS ROMANCE DRAMA.
WHICH IS REALLY FUCKING STUPID.
FRANKLY, I'VE SEEN GOOD ROMANCE DRAMA, AND EVERYTHING I'VE SEEN HERE IS FUCKING BORING.
TROLL WILL SMITH WOULD VOMIT ON SIGHT SEEING THIS PLACE.
ANYWAY, THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.
YOUR CHOICES ARE APPARENTLY HANGING OUT THERE UNDER THE MAKEOUT WEED
OR COMING OVER HERE AND LETTING ME USE MY INFINITE WISDOM AT ROMANCE TO SOLVE YOUR STUPID PROBLEMS.
SO WHAT'S IT GONNA BE?
(So I got told to make a last-day mistletoe post, so here it is. You can mingle, talk to Karkat, or both. Mistletoe is not within close proximity to the stand, but you may instead feel compelled to talk about your problems.
ETA: Sleep, will pick up in a bit, thread amongst yourselves Back!)