Cheer up everyone," he said, a new brightness to his voice. "Since we’re all going to die horribly anyway, what’s there to be worried about?

And then the Necromancers pulled out their sub-atomic machine guns.

Stephanie could see the greed seep into the watery eyes of her father’s other brother, a horrible little man called Fergus, as he nodded sadly and spoke sombrely and pocketed the silverware when he thought no one was looking

I don’t want a perfectly safe weapon. I want a dangerous weapon that hurts people.” He took the stick from her, rapped it against her head. She howled and he nodded. “See? It hurts people.

You look angry," he said. "You put me on hold." "For a very good reason." "You put me," she said very, very slowly, "on hold.

We may need to focus here.' 'Right. Yes. OK. Turn around.' 'Are you going to throw something at me?' 'What? No, I'm getting out of bed.

She wants to be polite and not hurt your feelings, so she's not going to laugh right now. But inside, inside she's laughing.