Ren frowned as he surveyed the madness they were knee-deep in. “Why are you under such heavy fire?” Nick gave him a droll stare. “Oh, I don’t know. But we’re really enjoying it. Fear has such a wonderfully romantic scent to it that they ought to turn it into cologne and deodorant. Eau de Ew. Let’s all just take a minute, and bask in it.

Can you just saw his arm off while we're here and get me loose? (Amanda) I could do that, but he needs his more. I'd cut yours off before I did his. (Tate) Oh, great, what are you, his Igor? (Amanda) Wrong movie, Igor was Frankenstein's flunky. Renfield is the one you're thinking of, and no, I'm not Renfield. Name's Tate Bennett. Parish coroner. (Tate)

Do me a favor." "Don't lick your seat belt?" Ash's expression was total confusion. "Huh? where did that randomness come from?

I apologize for Pam. I accidentally hit her in the head with a baseball when we were in fifth grade and knocked her out cold. She’s never been right since. (Tory)

Because I have no boobs. My ears stand out, and I have freckles all over me. (Grace) Boobs? (Julian) Breasts. (Grace) You have very nice breasts. (Julian) Thanks. What about you? (Grace) I have no breasts. (Julian)

Want a closer look? (Tate) Like a screwdriver through my eye socket. Sure, let’s have a look-see. (Simone) Ooo, welcome back, Ms. Snark. I’ve missed you. (Tate)

(He glared at them while it rang and rang and rang. Grimacing at the delay, Nick glanced toward Kody.) “Do necromancers not have voice mail?” – Nick