[They are absolutely drawing an audience. Karkat fails to care, because tantrums are a way of life, and there's a burning box of something in his hands. He's not putting it down; it's his now.]

Says the one whose future self flagrantly murdered me for shitty reasons. But oh no, you're the one who should be wary of my motives, and I should just forgive everything because you doused me with sticky fruit liquid.

So what if they don't hurt? They're still on fire! Do you want to hold hands to test? Because this boxed product of yours was downright keen to join me!