If you must eat a banana in public, never make eye contact.

I lowered the gun but didn’t holster it. Not just yet. She could turn out to be psychotic. Or a door-to-door salesperson.

Still, this whole grim reaper thing should have come with a manual. Or a diagram of some kind. A flowchart would have been nice.

I sort of got off on making bad guys sweat. Which was not unlike my love of making good guys sweat, just by very different means.

I could hardly be responsible for my actions when everyone around me gave me every opportunity to sink to their low expectations.

They were back. The demons in all their glory. And they had a plan. I made plans sometimes, too, but they rarely involved world domination. Hot dogs on a grill, maybe. Tequila.

I could be irksome when I put my left ventricle into it.