Gamzee laughs, following close behind Tavros and resting his arms on the smaller boy's shoulders, matching his pace to his friend's. "Yeah, but brother, the things what you got your mitts on are made with love, right? And that be making everything taste wicked fine, and makes little Christmas miracles bubble up in my food sack! So they'll be the most delicious!"

Which all makes perfect sense to Gamzee, even if it sounds like idealistic nonsense to anyone else.