Sig Sauer. Nine millimetres. Thirteen in the magazine. Big bullets. One of these hits you and it could blow your head off; something even the magic can't fix. Other than that you should be all right, presuming you remembered to wear the regulation above-ground micro-fibre jumpsuit recently patented by me. Then again, being a Recon jock, you probably didn't.

I'm LEP. A captain. No rent-a-cop gnome is going to stand in the way of my orders.

Artemis: How long will it take you to prepare the time spell? N1 chewed his knuckle: About as long as it takes you to take your clothes off. "Aaarrk," Artemis half choked.

Humm humm haaa. Rahmumm humm haaaa," intoned Opal, finishing her chant. "Peace be inside me, tolerance all around me, forgiveness in my path. Now, Mervall, show me where the filthy human is so that I may feed him his organs.

Anything else, Butler?" "The cosh, sir.

Ah, my princess. Noble steed. How does the morning find you both?

Genius inspires resentment. A sad fact of life.