“I don’t see why not,” I all but snapped at him. “His body was experimented upon, and there are records of it. What else would you call it?” “I don’t know. Necropsy?”

“You‘re a hard negotiator, Ray-Baby.""I‘m going to get a lot harder if you call me that again." "Give me a minute. Less than a minute. I‘m almost certain I can make a filthy joke in response to that.""No", I told him. "No, for the love of God, don’t.”

“"I don't know exactly what's wrong with you, but I bet it's hard to pronounce when you're drunk."”

“Did you even use anything at all in that bag of yours?""No, but I might use some of it later." And I almost certainly would, once I got rid of this crybaby and picked up my drag queen.”

“I immediately felt better about killing him. I’ve never known a Trevor who wasn’t a total douchebag. It’s just one of those names that goes so nicely with selfish, arrogant, malicious behavior—and really, what did I know about this guy? Nothing, except that his name was Trevor and he’d been nabbed in the midst of breaking-and-entering. That was plenty.”

“It's funny what they say about men in uniform - how people think women just can't resist 'em. Fact is, I think we're just pleased to see a man groomed, bathed, and wearing clothes that fit him.”

“He was carrying bulky loot; I could see it under his zipped-up sweater. And when I unzipped it with a one-handed rip, I saw that he was wearing a bandolier loaded with grenades. I have no doubt that a wide, manic smile spread across my pretty little face.”