…Something isn’t right with you and this property. Strange things happen around it. I don’t know what is going on, but I will find out. You could make it easier on yourself by coming clean.” “Sure. This is a magic bed-and-breakfast and the two guys in my kitchen are aliens from outerspace.

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.

Cajun stomp?" "You heard me, swamper. And keep your hands to yourself.

And did you have to hack his arms off?” “Yes, I did. He wouldn’t go through the door.” “You say it like you’re proud of it." I was proud of it. It was an example of quick thinking in a difficult situation.

First rule of bodyguard detail: know where your 'body' is at all times.

Dali blinked at me. "Would you mind making coffee while you're dancing? I smell it on the bottom shelf, either first or second jar on the left." I opened the first jar and looked inside. Coffee. The label said BORAX. "What's up with the labels?" Dali shrugged. "You're in the house of a cat whose job is to spy. He thinks he's clever. I'd be careful with the silverware drawer. There might be a bomb in it.

Why the rifle? Everybody knows you can’t shoot.” Who were these everybodies and would they like to stand in front of me, preferably within ten feet, so I could discuss this issue in greater detail.