She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.

Are you defending Marcie?” He shook his head. “I don’t need to. She handled herself. You, on the other hand…” I pointed at the door. “Out.

Maggots squirming in your eyeholes...and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit too far." "This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side.

Wouldn't have pegged you for a dancer," he spoke to my mind "Funny, I would have pegged you for a stalker," I shot back.

You laugh, but you haven't seen me in a tux. Or maybe you don't like broad-shouldered guys with muscular chest and washboard abs?

As in, I wouldn't know normal if it marched up and poked me in the eye.

Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me.