Not that I don't appreciate the rescue," Holt said. "But I'm forced to ask, in the interest of self-preservation ... exactly how well armed are you right now?

What matters is the face you show the world, not the quaking mess behind it.

I think we should all earn our place in the world. [...] We owe the world something. We owe the world everything.

I am not cute. I am the dreaded Grim Reaper. People fear me, you know. There's a whole song about it.

Hang on, Pa, don't reach for yer shotgun just yet," I said, grinning over the protective streak I found funny, when there wasn't actually anything to shelterme from. "We were just circlin' the wagons, not having an orgy." My dad suddenly looked like he might be sick. "Please don't ever say that word again." "Wagons?

Great. "So not only am I not-human, but Death is my arch foe?" Who, me? Panic? "Anything else you want to tell me, while we're confessing?

So, did the costume come with a condom, or is that sold separately?