“Ohhh, OH no you didn't!" he screams. "Nobody touches the TERRY!" Then he starts punching himself in he face. This kid really is crazy! I may not even have to fight him. He's doing it for me, and I'm winning!”

“Terry cooked for me, but I resented having to do dishes. As I saw it, Terry liked cooking-he enjoyed it, he told me so. Well, I didn't enjoy washing dishes- I hated it, and I'd told him so-and didn't see why I should have to do something I hated after he got to do something he liked. I mean, that wasn't fair, was it?”

“Normally, as long as I'm telling him what to do, he wins in a fight.”

“Then I'm afraid we'll have to lose our common ground." Flashing his fangs,he lunged forward.I drew my arm back and punched him full in the face."Ow!" we screamed in unison as he clutched his nose and I shook my poor, poor hand.Why didn't anyone ever tell me punching faces hurts?"You hit me!""You were trying to bite me!"We glared at each other,intensity somewhat diminished by the hand he still held to his nose. "So what now?" he asked,smooth voice muffled."I haven't thought that far ahead yet.”

“I punched him 14 times in the face, and he didn’t even try to hit me back. He wasn’t a pacifist, but he was already as dead as a slab of meat.”

“we don't know he's dead do we? Have we seen a body? Has anyone told us he's dead?"I didn't say anything," he protested. Then don't look at me like I'm crazy. If I'm wrong,let me be wrong , let me be crazy,”