I have three words for you," EMT Guy said. "Possible internal bleeding." I turned back to him. "Don't you think if I was bleeding internally, I'd know somewhere deep inside? Like, internally?

We're like the Three Musketeers, searching for truth and justice and the American way.: Glitch snorted. "More like the Three Blind Mice, stumbling around trying to find a hunk of cheese in the dark.

If Cameron kidnaps you, kills you, then buries your lifeless body in a shallow grave in the desert where your remains lay decomposing for several decades until they're accidentally discovered by some guy on a journey to awaken his spirit at the Salinas Pueblo Missions, can I have your iMac?" I gaped at her. "You've really thought this out. "I love your iMac." "I love my iMac too, and you're not getting her." "But you'll be decomposing.

Then I asked her if she wanted to to the funeral, and my God, the look on her face. You'd think I'd asked her to drown the neighbor's cat." Admittedly, drowning the neighbor's cat didn't really clue me in as much as I would've liked. "So, she was angry?" He blinked back to me and stared. Like a long time.

It would be a miracle to solve this case. Luckily, I believed in miracles. No, wait, that was testicles. I believed in testicles.

The dead guy looked at me with wide eyes. “I can’t move my legs.” I snorted. “You can’t move your arms either, or your feet or your freaking eyelids. You’re dead.

after an epic search, I finally found something neither green nor fuzzy. It was a hot sausage link. I named it Peter, mostly because it seemed like the right thing to do. As soon as my java was piping hot I popped him into the microwave. hopefully the radioactive environment would sterilize Peter. No need to have little Peters running around, wreaking havoc.