“I picked up the phone and dialed up John on his cell. One ring, and then-"I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, VINNY!""John?""Oh, Dave. Sorry. I had been having a heated argument here on my phone and then I hung up in disgust. Then when the phone rang I just assumed, without checking, that it was the person I was having an argument with so I just blindly shouted insults into the phone. How embarrassing.""I’m getting sick of that one, John.”

“Marconi said, "I see you have your instruments. Can any of you sing? The old spirituals work best."John said, "I can sing."I said, "No, you can't, John.""Well, I play the guitar.""So can I," said Big Jim. "We have two guitars."I said, "This could not be any stupider."John said, "Dave, you remember the words to 'Camel Holocaust'?""Ah, once again, you prove me wrong, John.”

“SHUT UP. Both of you. You're coming with me." To me he said, "Put some pants on.""Fuck you. This is my house. I make the rules. You take your clothes off. John, get the Twister mat.”

“John flung himself into a pseudo-karate stance, one hand poised behind him and one in front, posed like a cartoon cactus. I thought for an odd moment he had moved his limbs so fast they had made that whoosh sound through air but then I realized John was making that sound with his mouth.”

“Dave? This is John.""What are you-"Alive?"-in an ambulance or something?""Yes and no. Are you still at the police station?""Yeah. We were both-""Have I died yet?”

“The phone rang. I picked it up. "Kate Daniels""It's me," Curran said. "I—" I hung up.”

“John and I have made this stuff our hobby, in the way that an especially attractive prisoner makes a hobby out of not getting raped. Jesus, that’s a terrible analogy. I apologize. What I’m saying is that it’s self-preservation. We didn’t choose this, we just have talents that makes us the equivalent of that new guy in the cell block who has a slim, hairless body and kind of looks like a woman from behind, and has an incredibly realistic tattoo of boobs on his back. He may have no desire at all to ever even touch a penis, but it’s going to happen, even if it’s just in the process of frantically slapping them away. Jesus, am I still talking about this? [John—please delete the above paragraph before it goes off to the publisher].”