Words without action mean nothing. I’ll show you.

Yeah, okay. You're right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steak, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn't tell. In exchange I asked him to gather his best undead buddies and stalk me through my friend's yard. And oh, yeah, it was totally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night-dinner buffet, because having organs is SO last year.

Ohh, how clever," Aden said and clapped. "A death threat. You know what's funny? That's not even my first of the day.

And at one point (cough) walking into a chicks knife (cough), he'd finally won. 'I'm king of the world, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory.' His voice echoed through the foyer, expectant eager. -Strider

I'm not crazy and we're not alone. I told them, but the only two people who ever believed me were the schizophrenic abducted by aliens and his invisible friend. I told them!

That's because I'm made of awesome." "And dipped in awesome." "And sprinkled with awesome." "Gods, I love the taste of awesome.

William untucked the covers and stood, making a mental list of everything he'd need for the coming trip. A few blades, serrated and non serrated. A vial of acid. A bone saw. A spiked paddle. A cat-o'-nine-tails. And a bag of Gummy Bears.