M. Chandler

“Fine. I can negotiate with the best of 'em. I took a CLASS. Tell me what you want.”

“So, uh, I'm not really sorry about that, and I'm not reallygrateful for your butting in or, or anything, but I'm kind of awarethat I ought to be..."(...)Jeremy considered this. "Well, since it's you, I suppose it'sthe best I'm likely to get. Fair enough. Your non-apology isaccepted, and I'll attempt to treat your delicate condition lesslightly in the future.”

“He was fucking with us pretty hard in the saferoom,” Sandra called from the front of the plane’s undercarriage.“Aw, Sandy, that wasn’t fucking,” Simon said. “That was just, I don’t know, really obnoxious foreplay or something.”

“Hope you didn't bring any spiders into the van with you,' Simon put in. 'Hey, I'm thinking we could take you back outside and hose you down, just to make sure. You'd definitely smell better if we did, which, I mean, bonus.' Jeremy scraped both hands through his hair again, then beat them clean against his thighs. 'Believe me, Simon, if we had access to a garden hose, I'd be the first to turn it on myself. I feel foul.''Hate to break it to you, Archer, but that feeling is not lying to you,' Simon said with mild relish.”