Karkat would laugh if he could find any humor in what she says, but he can't even summon up the half-hearted laugh of incredulity to that. Oh, how terrible: she has to make assholes cooperate. He's been there. It's a pain, but it's not what he meant.

He tosses his hands up. "Oh, woe is the poor Capitolite!" he snaps off. "Made to do a job and make people go places. How grueling, how brutal, how very unfair indeed. It must be a cakewalk for tributes like me to go play together in the arenas. I'm a whiny little grub for even daring to put myself above the struggle of dealing with fussy children, and I swear to my shriveled little blood pusher I will keep your plight in mind the next time I taste blood from my internal organs."

He might have kept his tongue if he had thought more, but as loose with the comments as he's been around her, the words are out before he can even start to regret.