We're being lead by an idiot with a crayon.

You wouldn't know a clue if it danced in front of you with a T-Shirt that read 'I'm a clue

(to Foaly) Captain Short's life is in danger, so push the button before I climb that tower and push it with your face!

So, let's make a deal: If you do not voice all the withering comments about the weight or uselessness of this jacket that are no doubt swirling in that big brain of yours, then I will not mention the super-laser episode again. Agreed?" This jacket is really cutting into my shoulders, thought Artemis. And it's so heavy that I could not outrun a slug. But he said, "Agreed.

Orion brightened. "I have an idea." "Yes?" said Foaly, daring to hope that a spark of Artemis remained. "Why don't we look for some magic stones that can grant wishes? Or, if that doesn't work, you could search my naked body for some mysterious birthmark that means I am actually the prince of somewhere or other.

Don't you worry about that, Mr. Adamsson. Why don't you head back to Reykjavik and spend some of that extortionate fee you charged me for a couple of hours' usage of your frankly third-rate restaurant and perhaps find a friendless tree stump to listen to your woes?

Remember this? You gave it to me for ensuring your trigger finger got reattached to your hand. You said it would remind me of that spark of decency inside me. I'm trying to do something decent now, Captain.