Mr. Sketch markers? I wish. I haven't found them here.

[ Ah, fond memories of keeping every smelly marker in one's flip-top desk and turning it into a veritable potpourri of fake fruit scents. Also licorice, but no one likes the licorice marker.

But more to the point. John lets out a low whistle as he begins cutting up various pieces of paper, holding off on the actual markage for now. ]

This is a pretty tall order. And I don't know— isn't it austipicizer anyway?

[ No. Neither of those are right and he knows it. It's just that he also has no idea how the fuck to actually spell it out. ]

We should probably just use the symbols.

[ Those he knows well enough, less from Karkat's endless rambles and more from his own decks of cards. With a stack of many-colored papers sufficiently wavy-fied, he picks one out — blinding lime green, like Slimer, awesome — and quarters it before drawing out each suit. ]

There, now we have a strategy guide. [ A beat. ] He's going to kill you for this.