JOHN: so anyway, as you can see, this would have worked just fine!

HARRY: no i think karkat's right. this looks like shit, dad.

JOHN: you know, me letting your earlier use of the word "fuck" slide wasn't a blanket approval for all cursing in front of me.

HARRY: sorry.

HARRY: try not to make such a shit plan, and i won't call it that.

JOHN: haha wow.

HARRY: it's not like i think i'm any better!

HARRY: i mean, i still can't believe i told vrissy and them to bring a dead celebrity to school.

HARRY: what was i THINKING.

JOHN: you were thinking it sounded hilarious!

JOHN: but yeah, in hindsight, maybe not the best call.

JOHN: maybe it's genetic?

HARRY: yeah.

HARRY: i kinda can't believe we're all still alive, actually.

HARRY: and how did YOU make it this far, being so bad at this?

JOHN: i had my friends with me, i guess.

They are silent for a bit. John doesn't want to go on a reminiscing jaunt, which Harry Anderson stopped finding impressive a few years ago. Plus, they haven't really had time to talk about what happened with Dave, yet, and he doesn't want to tank the mood by bringing him up. The rapport they've built feels good. Stronger than he expected. He'd spent so long seeing mostly the best parts of Roxy in Harry Anderson. He forgot, he guesses, to look for himself in there, too. And if what they have in common right now is a lack of strategic foresight, hey, he'll take it.

JOHN: speaking of friends, i will say the snacks were a good call, at least!

JOHN: i don't hear any more screaming, anyway.

JOHN: see, that's one good plan between the two of us!