"You don't understand! She can be heartless!"
Karkat's face radiated grey-tinted apoplexy.
"Look, when we broke up a few sweeps back, I thought I could fix things."
"And since you're happily married to her with a picket fence and 2.5 grub-babies I can tell that worked out well."
"Shut the fuck up, Strider! Don't mention this to anybody, and don't make light of it!"
Dave nodded imperceptably. Karkat took a moment to look over his shoulder, certain his words had jinxed the conversation, before continuing in a notably quieter voice. Quiet for Karkat, though, was always a relative term.
"Alright, so... when I was trying to get back together with her, I went to a tried-and-true romantic ritual. The heartfelt romantic compilation of songs. I loaded a grub by hand to include every emotionally-perfect song for our scenario. It was beautiful. That assembly of tunes would have made an imperial drone fucking weep."
"So you made her a troll mixtape. Cool story, bro."
"I'm not done! Anyway, I get Captor to deliver this songpilation right to her fucking doorstep, and I wait a week. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Until finally one day, I get this NOTE from her. A fucking note in red crayon."
Karkat's face was notably flushed by this point.
"It went something like: OH M1ST3R V4NT4S, TH4NK YOU FOR TH3 4UD1OGRUB. 4S SOON 4S 1 S4W TH1S 1 KN3W 3X4CTLY WH4T TO DO W1TH 1T. TH3 LOC4L ORPH4NS LOV3 TH3 ROM4NT1C S3L3CT1ON OF SONGS SO V3RY MUCH!"
"She.... she... she donated my mixtape to charity! You're dealing with history's greatest monster, here!"