The bleaches of Peaches
1. Send local drag king/boredom dispenser/self-appointed queer quota-filler Aliza Shapiro to do the QA. (“Hey, they’re both chicks with facial hair! They’ll have so much to talk about!”) She’s like a human Brita, filtering all the flavor out of stuff that by all rights ought to be a raucous, salty, dirty good time.
2. Don’t edit it. Like, at all. Because proper grammar is for fascists. And every single one of those 8,000,000,000 words will be needed when the Revolution comes.
That said, the part where Peaches and Heywood briefly dust it up over whether men should be allowed to call each other vaginas is priceless. News flash, Aliza: you two just aren’t on the same team.