"There is one bright side to this," said Fang. "Yeah? What's that?" The new and improved Erasers would mutilate us before they killed us? He grinned at me so unexpectedly I gorgot to flap for a second and dropped several feet. "You looove me," he crooned smugly. Holding his arms out wide, he added, "You love me this much." My shriek of appalled rage could probably be heard in California, or maybe Hawaii.

I still felt like I might hurl, and I thought about how awful that would be in midair.

Listen, street punk. You're a guy, and you're a couple inches taller, and maybe forty pounds heavier, and ooh, you're in a gang. But I've survived ten years of Catholic school, and I will cut you off at your knees without a blink. Do you understand?

Fang, fang. I love you. I looooove you. I love you thiiiiiiiiiis much!

What I said yesterday didn't mean anything! I love everyone in the flock! Plus, it was the Valium talking!" "Uh-huh. You just keep telling yourself that. You looove me." Max: (tries to punch him) "Pick a tree. I'll go carve our initials in it." Max: (screams and runs into bathroom)

Have you been playing in toxic waste lately?

Well, that's an evil smile.