Yep, Atlanta was burning. Again.

Would you care for something to drink?” “Is it poisoned?” “It’s Saturday,” I said. “We only serve poison during the week.

You said sloppy! Look, I didn't even use my sword; I hit him with my head, like a moron.

Juke glanced into her cup before tipping it down to her mouth. "Screw you!" "Now come on, sugar, you know I don't swing that way." "Whatever!

True strength isn’t in killing—or ignoring—your opponent, it’s in having the will to shield those who need your protection.

My tablecloth was missing in action and long, jagged scratches covered the table's surface.The scratches looked suspiciously like letters. I climbed on a chair and looked at it from above. MINE. Oh, that's great. Fantastic. So mature. Perhaps he would pull my pigtails next or stick a tack on my seat.

You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist." She snarled. Heh.