“Wayne: You wanna know why I really came to find you?Waxilliam: Why?Wayne: I thought of you happy in a comfy bed, resting and relaxing, spending the rest of your life sipping tea and reading papers while people bring you food and maids rub your toes and stuff.Waxilliam: And?Wayne: And I just couldn't leave you to a fate like that...I'm too good a friend to let a mate of mine die in such a terrible situation.Waxilliam: Comfortable?Wayne: No. Boring.”

“Wayne's a little attached to that hat," Waxillium said. "He thinks it's lucky."Wayne: "It is lucky. I ain't never died while wearing that hat." Marasi frowned. "I ... I'm not sure I know how to respond."Wax: "That's a common reaction to Wayne.”

“What wasdat, sir? What wazzat sir? What wassat, sir?”“Wayne, what are you babbling about?” Waxillium asked.“Practicing my pretzel guy,” Wayne said. “He had a great accent...”Waxillium glanced at him. "That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said in the pretzel-guy accent, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“That hat looks ridiculous.”“Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.”

“So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?”“I told you that he got away after I shot him.”“I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.”Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.”Wayne started cursing.“Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.”“Only a hat?” he asked, aghast.“Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.”“It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.”

“It's all right Wayne," Waxillium said softly. "I've made a promise. I told Lord Harms I'd return Steris to him. And I will. That is that.""Then I will remain and help," Marasi said. "That is that.""And I could really use some food," Wayne added. "Fat is fat.”

“The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible.”