Yeah, I’m thinking it’s a reunion or, since it is our classmates, a collection of idiots. Let’s call it a meese. Like geese, only with morons. (Caleb)

You’re going to share a Moon Pie? Now? You know you can’t get any more of those until you go back to the Sates, right? (Geary) It’s for a good cause. We need more addicts. Besides, there’s always Grandpa to bail me out with an emergency shipment if I get too desperate. (Tory)

You freaking, flippin’, moronic frat boy!

I so love the smell of hatred and revenge. It’s the headiest of concoctions. (Noir) I personally feel that way toward blood. No better smell in the universe than when it’s combined with the aroma of those fearing death. (Jericho)

I’m assuming those are Daimons. (Susan) No, they’re Avon ladies. (Ravyn)

We’re screwed. (Nick) Screwed blue and tattooed. (Acheron)

A clever enemy would kiss my hand, then stab at my back while I was distracted. (Stryker) A coward’s action. Truly. Don’t insult either one of us with such a suggestion. I don’t believe in petty juvenile attacks. I go after what I want, and when it’s the life of an enemy I don’t want there to be any mistaking my intention. If you’re worth my hatred, then you’re worth my letting you know that I’m coming for you. (Zephyra)