“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].”

“John, let me make one thing clear,” Jim said, cutting me off in his most stern, evangelical voice. “Every man is blessed with his gifts from the Lord. One of mine happens to be a penis large enough that, if it had a penis of its own, my penis’ penis would be larger than your penis.”........"Fuck all of you,” John retorted. “You don’t even exist. We’re all just a figment of my cock’s imagination.”

“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.”

“I call it Dante’s Syndrome,” John said. I had never heard him call it any such thing.“Meaning I think Dave and I gained the ability to peer into Hell. Only it turns out Hell is righthere, it’s all through us and around us and in us like the microbes that swarm through yourlungs and guts and veins. Hey, look! An owl!”We all looked. It was an owl, all right.”

“No. He says when you're dealing with any kids of supernatural beings, Gods and Devils and angels, you tend to think about them like hurricanes or earthquakes, some kind of mindless force of nature. But if they're real, then they have minds. They know your name. So even reading about the Devil tips him off, he knows instantly he's being read about and that you're somebody he may have to deal with. And I'm thinking what you did in Vegas went way, way beyond that.""What 'I' did? What about us? We were both there.""Yeah but I cut my hair since then. They probably think that was a different guy.”

“And then the Jamaican guy pulls out the sauce. "It be opening doors to other worlds, mon," he days. We made him do it first, saw that he didn't die. It seemed to make him pretty happy and then - Dave, the guy, I know I didn't really see this, but the guy shrunk himself, made himself three feet tall. We all laughed our asses off, then he was back to normal again.'And you still tried that shit?'Are you kidding? How could I not?”

“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.”