“Charlie Asher: I accidently shagged a monk last night.Minty Fresh: Sometimes, in times of crisis, that shit cannot be avoided.”

“Mr. Fresh looked up. "The book says if we don't do our jobs everything could go dark, become like the Underworld. I don't know what the Underworld is like, Mr. Asher, but I've caught some of the road show from there a couple of times, and I'm not interested in finding out. How 'bout you?""Maybe it's Oakland," Charlie said."What's Oakland?""The Underworld.""Oakland is not the Underworld!""The Tenderloin?" Charlie suggested.”

“Charlie Asher: Mrs. Ling, is that duck wearing trousers?Mrs. Ling: Could be . . . . You hear of paper-wrap chicken? This duck in pants.”

“. . . And so Charlie Asher . . . led an army of fourteen-inch-tall bundles of animal bits, armed with everything from knitting needles to a spork, into the storm sewers of San Fransciso.”

“My name," said Mr. Fresh."Pardon?" Charlie stopped tying himself up."I dress in mint green because of my first name. It's Minty."Charlie completely forgot what he was worried about. "Minty? Your name is Minty Fresh?"Charlie appeared to be trying to stifle a sneeze, but then snorted an explosive laugh. Then ducked.”

“Why would he do that? I thought--he said--he loved me." "As if I needed a reason to hate him more," Asher muttered, avoiding my gaze.”