After all, Fnick is Superman," said Iggy. "Shut up, Jeff," I said, but I was smiling. I lifted Iggy's fingers to my face so that he knew.

Hi, Max," she said, pushing her shades up onto her curls. "I hope your wearing sunscreen," i said, “your gonna have hella wrinkles by the time your ten.” “Want some daiquiri?” she offered, pointing at a blender. “Is it traitor flavored?” I asked.

Every other person in the world would have looked at it and thought, Max would hate this. It was girly. It was beautiful. It wasn't made of titanium and black leather with spikes on it. But it seemed exactly right, in a weird, heart-fluttery kind of way. And I really loved it.

This is not a democracy," I said, understanding he fear but unable to do anything about it. "It's a Maxocracy.

Have you been playing in toxic waste lately?

They turned to Angel. "We will call you Little One," the leader said, obviously deciding to dispense with the whole confusing name thing. "Okay," said Angel agreeably. "I'll call you Guy in a White Lab Coat." He frowned. "That can be his Indian name," I suggested.

Have you ever been to Colorado?" I frowned. "Is that one of those square ones, in the middle?