"I'm quadranted to deviants," you mourn. "I will die from an exl— expold— a busted pump biscuit, that's what, due to an account of being too bloody scandalized. By your deviant ways. We won't even get to Bel before I, I, I kick over." You squirm a bit until your can prop your head on his side. "Umfgh. Alright, I'm, I'm, yes. Feeling it. That's a fucking relief." You touch one of your new bandaids and shiver, but only very lightly. You sigh and nuzzle the thick, sturdy ridges of Jethro's landdweller ribs. "Hey. Hey, I, I say, d'you remember when you were a seadweller? Wasn't that fun?"