[Gamzee had no problem with Stan entering the apartment. As mentioned before, he loved inviting random people into his home. Tossing the door closed (lest he get an earful from his roommates later), he quickly followed after the old man-thing, an intrigued grin plastered all over his face.]

Heh heh heh, sorry, bro. Ain't knowin' that shit were a motherfuckin' sore subject for you.

[In response to Stan's question, he opened his mouth to mention that some of the marijuana seemed to possess a different amount of psychedelics in them than others, but soon closed his mouth again in favor of "hmm"ing quietly. Better to not scare away the customer before he made the sale.]

Not all what I can motherfuckin' be sayin' I do, brother of mine. All the plants what ain't the pointy leafs be havin' some sort of the same motherfuckin' effect no matter what the fuck they all look like, but the leafs be the strongest ones.

[In other words, everything that grew out of him was laced with THC: the passion flowers, the seaweed, his blood, his sap, even the branches growing from his scalp. Obviously the most potently laced was the marijuana, so that's all that he sold.]

Why? You wanna be signing your ass up for the goddamn newsletter if all somethin' else poke itself the fuck outta me!?