Sell your soul to Hussie, not me.


There he was.

Mohawk boy. Beautiful little mohawk boy who was in the same illustration class and the same pottery class and the same math class. His pretty brown eyes and dark complexion. That cute, little yawn he had, he was yawning that yawn right now as he worked as a volunteer at the zoo. Damn, mohawk boy was a cute motherfucker. Rumor had it he could throw some sick fires too.

"Gamzee."

What the hell was that annoying noise he kept hearing? Whatever it was it was making waves in his calm little ocean of peaceful admiration of mohawk boy and his safari zone love of bulls and stuff. That noise was aggravating and if the fanboy hadn't been taking his medications he sure as hell would have gone off and killed someone by now. Those doctors worked miracles at prescribing some good shit. The yelling in his head fell to an all time low with whispers and shit. Sometimes it got lonely and he'd slowly take less, but then Karkat would notice- "Karkat!" Gamzee shouted, finally putting a name to the annoying noise.

"Let's go!"

The punk looked down at his sketchbook, the whole reason he was at the zoo in the first place. There were a few concept sketches to do and he had chosen animals for his subject matter. Yeah, he had plenty of sketches for the assignment and his friend, Karkat, had even taken a few pictures that he could use as reference later on.

"See ya, motherfucker."