Money to me had always been merely something the sheep used to show each other how wonderful they were.

But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.

But of course, there's no rest for the wicked, which I certainly am; as I said, no rest for the wicked.

Happily for me, ninety-nine percent of all human life is spent simply repeating the same old actions, speaking the same tired clichés, moving like a zombie through the same steps of the dance we plodded through yesterday and the day before and the day before. It seems horribly dull and pointless-but it really makes a great deal of sense. After all, if you only have to follow the same path every day, you don't need to think at all. Considering how good humans are at any mental process more complicated than chewing, isn't that the best for everybody?

After a long moment I closed the freezer door. I wanted to lie down and press my cheek against the cool linoleum. Instead I reached out with my little finger and flipped the Barbie's head. It went thack thack against the door. I flipped it again. Thack thack. Whee. I had a new hobby.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

No big deal. We all have blood in us, the trick is keeping it inside.