She surveyed the carnage behind him. "Did you have fun?" He showed her his teeth. "Yes.

What is wrong with you? Many, many things.

On your best day, you're only as good as I am on my worst with one arm tied behind my back.

I looked at the canine companion. “Me cookies. You stay.

Secret to what?" "Secret to shutting you up," he said. "I just have to beat you till you're half-dead, then give you chicken soup and"--he raised his hands--"blessed silence.

For a second I thought I might actually be alive," I said, looking at Nick's unshaven face. "Now I know- I've gone to Hell and you're my nursemaid.

Give me a few minutes.” “You have time.” He sat in the grass. “Are you just going to sit there and watch me?” “Yes. Watching pretty peasant girls is what we poor little rich boys do best.” “Peasant?” He shrugged. “You started the name calling.