You're such a cupcake.

Valerie was crying, too. She was laughing and sniffling back sobs. “I’m going to marry my snuggy wuggums,” she said. Morelli paused, his fork halfway to the roast chicken platter. He slid his eyes to me and leaned close. “If you ever call me snuggy wuggums in public I’ll lock you in the cellar and chain you to the furnace.

If she wasn't your grandmother I'd shoot her." Ranger

My father hired you to protect me," Ahmed said, "not to go off chasing men." Grandma leaned forward, keeping her eye on the Taurus. "We think this guy killed Fred." "Who's Fred?" "My uncle," I told him. "He's married to Mabel." "Ah so you're avenging a murder in the family. This is a good thing.

I got out of the elevator and confronted Mr. Wexler. “Killing is wrong.” “We kill chickens,” Mr. Wexler said. “We kill cows. We kill trees. So big deal, we kill some drug dealers.” It was hard to argue with that kind of logic because I like cows and chickens and trees much better than drug dealers.

I took the stool next to him, raising an eyebrow at the coffee and cruller on the counter. "Thought you weren't into internal pollution," I said. Lately Ranger'd been on a health food thing. "Props," Ranger told me. "Didn't want to look out of place." I didn't want to burst his fantasy bubble, but the only time Ranger wouldn't look out of place would be standing in a lineup between Rambo and Batman.

Only men you can count on these days are Ben and Jerry.