[Dave hadn't been here long, not even a full day. Of course he'd show up during a party, he had joked, now it could really get started. Break out the turntables and start warming up your macarena muscles. Ha ha. Cover up your irritation at this whole joke of a life of being uphove for the whims of a game, that's the spirit.

He just explores the goings on with aloofness, but when that got to be too fucking much, he levitates off the ground and goes for a nice, leisurely float over the blueberries. Soon he's finding one person asleep on the ground. Then another. And another.]

Dang, this ground must be softer than the most plush of a puppet's ass covered in the sandman's own personal dandruff. It's a whole smorgasbord of sleeping stooges here, I could do so much. Hand in hot water. Shit on their hands and tickle their face for some tight shit-on-face actio--

[His voice dies down when he hears a very familiar voice, dreamily floating to him from a bush to the right. "Stupid, hooded asshole." Was it actually him? It's too good to be true...! He turns on a dime and flies over to where he heard it, and slowly he peeks over the bush...

And there, there's that stupid face, perpetually in an aggrieved expression. But Dave knows it so well he can see that Karkat is actually having a nice dream. A dopey half-grin comes to his own face, and he whispers:]

Hey. Bulgemuncher.