Prince Bubba Gumball, the much put-upon monarch of the Candy Kingdom, was once again contemplating a matter of most dire importance, but of a very different nature than his usual work.

". . . This shouldn't be as complicated as it is being. Yet the complexity is to be expected if I think about it.
Social nuances, personality variables, vocal cues, body language, subconscious responses. . ."

"Hey, GB! . . . Oh, please, don't tell me this's another recipe. . ."

"On the contrary, Marshall, this is my contribution to that plan you had suggested. And how many times do I have to tell you to shut that window? I really can't stand the draft."

"Good to see you, too, Bubba. Anyhow, what's your wonderful contribution to 'Seducing Fionna 101'?"

"I'm not calling it something so abrasive."

"Well, I could've called it 'Fu—'"

"We're not calling it that, either! Honestly!"

"Well what are we calling it, Your Pinkness? And what is 'it'?"

"It's called 'Courting for Three', for lack of anything more catchy, and—what are you doing?"

"I wanna see it. And for the record, my name for it would've been much more catchy."

"No, not yet, I haven't finished it!"

"Come o-o-on, lemme see it! I'm in this, too, so I should be, like, co-author or something."

"Marshall!"

The vampire let out one of his trademark snarls that made the prince scream. A manly scream.

"Hah! Gotcha, sucker! Now, what have we here. . .?"

"Marshall. . ."

". . . -snicker-"

"What?"

"H-heh, oh, this is. . . Oh, man, Gummy Bear, I knew you were a control freak, but this just takes it!"

"It is not that funny. Stop laughing."

"This is a flipping comedy treacle mine! Dude, you made a freaking FLOW CHART, you-pffhahaha!"

". . . -sigh- I suppose that while you're writhing on the floor, you could have a mind to give that back?
It is, after all, a work in progress, and I wouldn't like to be impeded in my thought processes."

"No, no, no—ohman—ha, just, just lemme get a look at the good stuff real quick..."

"Pardon?"

"Y'know, the 'end result' of said plan. . . -flip, flip- Man, this thing is pages long, lessee. . ."

"Uhm, I'm not sure if. . ."

. . .

". . . . . . Bubba?"

"Yes?"

"Where the heck is the quote-unquote seduction in this plan?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The birdie-bees, stuff it! You didn't put in anything relating to the birdie-bees?!"

"That is generally the last step of courting and this plan, which, oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that it was all about the stuffing b...birdie-bees!"

"Oh, come on, that's gotta be the main structure of the plan! This's lame!"

"But we need a steady emotional and social foundation before we lay grounds for a physical one, that's just how these kinds of things are supposed to go, Marshall."

"Foundations are for buildings, GB, not bodies. Those tend to make their own 'foundations'..."

"Oh, that's just!—you're!—I'd like to see you do anything better!"

"Alright, sure. We go up to Fionna, tell her that she's hot, I kiss her, you kiss her, she kisses us back. Bam!"

". . . Yes, that 'bam' being where she proceeds to beat the living guts out of us both and never speaks to us again for the remainder of our existences. . . . And why do you get to kiss her first, hmm?"

"Uh, dude, this was my idea to start with."

"And it may end quickly and hilariously in failure, without my fortunate gift of foresight."

"Your foresight sucks: it's not even including the birdie-bees."

"Enough with the birdie-bees, you incorrigible—ugh, we'll get to that later in the plan, just give it back."

"We need to give it some action, man, this might as well be another one of your stupid diplomacy tea parties!"

"They're meetings, the plan isn't finished yet, and your plan won't work!"

"My plan involves some smooching. Yours doesn't. Which sounds better, do you think?"

"It's not all about the smooching, and you don't get to decide who kisses her first! And it's irrelevant in the first place because it's not going to happen yet!"

"Sez you..."

". . . Whatever thought is putting that expression on your face I want you to stop thinking it. Right now."

"Heh, you're a real stick of gum in the mud, y'know that?"

"And you're a crude, hind-brain functioning, dismal excuse for a suitor."

"Prude."

"Pervert."

"You know you like it..."

The prince wearily put his hand across his eyes.

". . . We'll concede to the possibility of discussing the potential physical aspects of the plan at a later date.
Please, give it back now?"

". . . Blah, blah, blah, fine. There's gotta at least be a kiss somewhere in here, though."

"Ah, there's that migraine again. . ."

"Or maybe in the name of 'respect for our fellow dude' we both kiss the sides of her face or something. A bit mushy, but we can get to the pecking order of the thing later."

". . . Or, maybe we could just let her choose the order?"

". . . Huh. Maybe."

"Hmm."

. . .

". . . Hey."

"What now?"

"Do you think she's ever been kissed?"

"Of course not, she's Fionna, when would she ever have the opportunity...to..."

At once, like a miniature epiphany, they remembered that a lot of the girl's time was spent rescuing princes, making friends with princes, and generally having many adventures that in some way would involve male monarchy.
Or to be more specific, the interactions with the particular one who was on fire.

". . . Oh glob."

"Nononono, it's cool, it's cool, we would know if she was! Doing anything that is . . . Would we?"

"Oh, my migraine. . ."

"Dude, give me something here!"

". . . I'm going to have to add more variables to the Courting for Three. This is going to have to be initiated sooner than planned, if we have to worry about an external influence, and it most definitely has to become more heavily managed with the intent to preserve, protect—"

"And propagate? . . . AAGH, MY GUT MEAT!"

"That was very ill-timed and completely unnecessary, take this seriously!"

"Gaaah, I am serious, Bubba, though currently most've my mind's on the pain here."

"You deserved it, and get up off the floor, you're healed already."

"I'll get you back for it."

"Looking forward to it."

Gumball chuckled at Marshall's expression.

"Marshall Lee, how do you feel about doing something to benefit the plan that is slightly against my ethical standards, but generally for the greater good of us all?"

"Oh, no, Prince Gumball is going against his most noble guidelines?"

". . . Well, yes."

". . . Let me just savor this for a moment."

"Yes or no, Marshall?"

"Didn't even have to ask. What're you asking for, anyway?"

"A level of insurance for the plan, if you get my drift."

Gumball was not a devious person by nature, in fact the complete opposite. Deviousness to him would normally be like a ninja wearing cowbells and glow-in-the-dark stickers. However, as the two young men grinned at each other, one as benign as a lollipop and the other as vicious as a piranha, it felt like the start of something that would require popcorn, a notebook, and a seat in the row as far, far back as was possible from the event.