In Cookie's defense, it was raining wildcats and rabid dogs.

I shifted in my chair as Dad waited for a response. He seemed determined, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possibly Milk Duds. “Are you psychotic?” I asked, realizing my plan to charm and bribe him if need be flew out the window the minute I opened my mouth.

Can I jump in your body and make out with my wife through you?” I fought a grin. “It doesn’t really work that way.” “Then can you just make out with my wife and pretend I’m in your body?” “No.” “I can pay. I have money.” “How much we talking?

He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.

That boy needs a hobby." "Stalking is a hobby." "So is serial killing.

When fighting clowns, always go for the juggler.

He had threatened my parents. I had to remember that. Still, it was really hard to stay mad at a wounded naked man.