Man, that did his ego good. Matter of fact, she hit him with anything like that again, he was going to feel like he could bench-press a city bus. With a jet plane on its roof.

Marissa, " he mumbled, taking her hand. "Don't want to see you drink so much?" Wait, not really what he'd been going for. "Ah...don't you to see me drink so much...want." Whatever. God...he was so confused.~Butch

He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.

That's where you come in. I want into that guy's mind, and you need to tell me how to do it." Ad shrugged. "Personally, I'd just use a hacksaw, but—" "There are potential consequences and side effects," Eddie said carefully. "Like what?" "Well, worst case... he could end up like Adrian.

I'm an angel not a frickin' saint.

Giving in to a shrill instinct, she ran around the side of the building. Butch was marching toward his car as if he were carrying an unstable load, and she rushed to catch up with them. “Wait. I need to ask him a question.” “You want to know his shoe size or something?” Butch snapped. “Fourteen,” Wrath drawled. “I’ll remember that at Christmas, asshole.

I'll call you," Manny said. "You do that, my man. You frickin' do that." -Manny to V