...my soul bleeding tears of anguish

A compliment would be the last thing out of my mouth to a man who was so pigheaded that he could be served at a luau.

Do you want me to ride you like a rented mule, or do you prefer to be Mr. Missionary Position? I'm fine with wither, so it doesn't matter to me.

Yes, he is a man, so genetically he's engineered to be dense about many things, but he's not stupid.

Hey!” I said, indignation filling me. “I’m immortal! Doesn’t that mean I won’t get saggy boobs and gray hair? Because if it doesn’t mean that, I want a refund—

You do not interrupt a man when he is explaining his master plan after having been soundly defeated. Don't you watch any James Bond Movies?

What's a friend for if not to face almost certain death with, eh?