And also that Katchoo lived somewhat in fear of the Francine sadface.

"Did I say it was?" she snapped once she'd bled off enough of the random punctuation incoherent rage to form brief sentences again. "This is just . . . god, what a frikkin' mess."

She pushed herself slowly to her feet -- thanks for dropping by, fleeting but perfectly vivid memory of hanging on to Francine for balance last night. "We oughta get you back to the cabins, get a shower, all that crap."