I'd do the lifting, but I just got a manicure. And I notice you don't have a manicure at all. Only thing noticeable about your hands is the missing tan on your ring finger that I don't care about. -Lula

Okay, take a deep breath, I told myself. Don't go all hormonal. Get the facts straight. Have a mental doughnut.

God's a busy guy. He don't have time to micromanage. What are the chances he heard that? It's early in the morning. He's probably having breakfast with Mrs. God.

I’ll be real discreet,” Tank said. As discreet as a six-foot-six, no-neck guy weighing three hundred and fifty pounds, all dressed in black SWAT clothes, with a Glock holstered at his side could be.

I rolled my eyes so far into the top of my head I almost fell over backward.

One of the men gave Butch a bunch of volts with a stun gun. The Rangeman didn’t move fast enough, and Butch grabbed the gun and threw it across the room. “Hunh,” Rangeman guy said. “Yeah,” I said. “Been there, done that.” “Are you sure he’s human?” “Maybe you could hook a chain to the FlexiCuffs on his ankles and drag him behind your car,” I said. “We tried that once, and Ranger didn’t like it,” the guy said. “You do something twice that Ranger doesn’t like, and you’re out of a job and damaged.

they have enough testosterone between them, if testosterone were electricity they could light up New York City for the month of August