[Eridan is busy vaguely panicking, though by now he's perfected the Lalonde Pokerface - the only show of anxiety is running his hand through his hair, mussing it up. he undoes his apron, balling it up in his fist.]

One, we don't fuckin' serwe crumpets.

[he wings the apron at Karkat's head.]

Two, I got a shitload a really god damn incriminatin' shit in my house! You're gonna take the both a us down, do you fuckin' realize that?