Butch nodded as if he knew exactly what was doing. "Like I said, my man, it's whatever. You and me? Same as always, no matter who you screw. Although… if you're into sheep, that would be tough. Don't know if I could handle that.

What happened to you?" she asked. "I got hit in the side." "With what?" "A knife.

...Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch. It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel.

V shook his head. “Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How’d you like that anywhere near a female you loved?” Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage’s body. “We’re going to need a shitload of steel,” the human muttered.

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

[...]you know what they say about messengers, right"? Excuse me?" Too much bad news will get you shot."[...]

In his fantasy, he kissed his best friend again, pulled back, and… “I love you,” he said into the spray of the shower. “I… love you.” As he closed his eyes against the pain, it was hard to know how much of what ran down his cheeks was water, and how much was something else.