[Karkat lets John take his grub self out of his hands. He looks at himself for a moment - his paradox clone, wriggling his little insect legs in John's pink, human hands.
His knuckles go white around the handle of the Clawsickle.]
Can't do that to myself?
[He takes a step forwards, eyes flashing at the grub.]
Look at that fucking thing. That's - oh, fuck. That little shitsucker's me, isn't it?