“Look," I said halfheartedly. "Another one of those tumbleweeds made out of old hair weaves.""Tumbleweave," said J.Lo.”

“[J.Lo] found us a police car. Sort of.'It's not a police car,' I said.'It is,' said J.Lo. 'Looknow. Lights for flashing.''That's true.''Writing on the sides.''Yeah, but the writing? It says ''BullShake Party Patrol.''Yes. Whatnow?”

“The first expert said he had attention deficit disorder. The second expert said the first was out of order. One said he was autistic, another that he was artistic. One said he had Tourette's syndrome. One said he had Asperger's syndrome. And one said the problem was that his parents had Munchausen syndrome. Still another said all he needed was a good old-fashioned spanking.”

“Please, sit down," Sharon said with another hair toss. I made a mental note to practice doing that in a mirror the next time I saw one. it seemed a useful skill, right up there with roundhouse kicks.”

“We found the bathrooms, which were labeled 'Aliens' and 'Femaliens.''Finally,' I said to J.Lo. 'Here's a bathroom you're allowed to use.”

“I scattered J.Lo's tools around the car, searching for some kind of rope, or something that could be used like a rope. I should have paid more attention to anything that looked like a pencil sharpener made of lemon Jell-O that, when cranked, would spit out superstrong yarn that smelled like ginger ale. I only mention this because J.Lo really did have such a thing.”