I don't have a lot of domestic instincts," Ranger said to me, his attention fixing on the unidentifiable glob in my hair, "but I have a real strong urge to take you home and hose you down." I went dry mouth. Connie bit into her lower lip, and Lula fanned herself with a file.

Babe, you've destroyed a car, burned down two buildings, stapled a guy's nuts, and you have sixteen stitches in your leg. Take a night off. Have a glass of wine, watch some television, and go to bed early." -Ranger

I've finally reached a stage in my career where I can do what I want.

Ranger locked eyes with me. "Please," he said. Tank and Hal were goggle-eyed. They weren't used to "please." I wasn't used to it either. But I liked it. Okay," I said. "Be careful. He's insane.

I rushed us out of your parents' house because I didn't think I could manage two hours at the dinner table with everyone focused on Joe Loosey's joystick sitting in the refrigerator next to the applesauce.

And when I was in the trunk, I saw Jesus. And the Virgin Mary. And Ozzy Osbourne.

My body is not designed to run. My body was designed to sit in an expensive care and drive.