Other pirates leaped over the railing. One, two... seven... thirteen. A baker’s dozen. Wait, fifteen. Eighteen... Twenty-one. The odds weren’t in our favor. “Maybe they just came over to borrow a cup of sugar,” I said. Andrea barked a short laugh. Curran put his hand on my shoulder. “That’s a lot of sugar. Must be a big cake.

Had records so stellar, they had to lock their resumes in a drawer at night, so the golden light streaming from the pages wouldn't keep them awake.

He finished the bandage and was examining it critically. "You know those things are unreliable." His voice held just a touch of reproach. “Eleven out of twelve work fine. I’d say that’s better chances than getting an orgasm with a blind date and women still try.

Your headlights don't scare me.

What's with the cute shoelace on your head?" "What this?" He flicked the end of the cord with his finger. "Yeah. Rambo called, he wants his bandana back.

The decorator of Las Colimas must have been a great admirer of both early Aztec and late Taco Bell architectural styles.

Go home, kiss your wives, hug your children and put your affairs in order, because tomorrow I will burn your neighborhood to the ground. We will kill you, your families, your neighbors, your pets, and anyone who will stand in our path. An attack on my family will not go unpunished.