Yeah, just fucking wait for the damn informative message on quadrants; get the fuck in line because I think if I have to explain it one more time my pan is going to melt out my idiotic ugly cartilage nub and onto the floor. That horrendous mess would be your fault, let's not bring ourselves to deal with it.
[A beat.]
I'm sure you will find your strange quadrantmate, er mates? With time. It just seems impossible sometimes. See, there is my hesitant but semi-appreciative pat on the back, I'm not sure if I hate myself more now or not.