Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.

Seedy wasn't a fair description for the place, because seeds imply eventual regrowth and renewal.

Star Trek?” I asked her. “Really?” “What?” she demanded, bending unnaturally black eyebrows together. “There are two kinds of people in the universe, Molly,” I said. “Star Trek fans and Star Wars fans. This is shocking.” She sniffed. “This is the post-nerd-closet world, Harry. It’s okay to like both.” “Blasphemy and lies,” I said.

Over the course of many encounters and many years, I have successfully developed a standard operating procedure for dealing with big, nasty monsters. Run away.

Give it to 'em!" Take 'em down!" First Aleran!" Kick their furry--" Assault formation!

Marcone's scum... But he's his own scum.

I put on the boots and kicked some monster ass.