“No, I don't, like, play an instrument or anything.I'm just...well, you saw me at the beginning there. I was the guy that fell down and died.”

“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.”

“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?”

“Well, they never know they're ill, do they? You can't diagnose yourself with the same organ that has the disease, just like you can't see your own eyeball. So, I suppose you just feel normal and the rest of the world seems to go crazy around you.”

“If I knew me as somebody else, I would hate me just as much. Why have a double standard?”

“Somebody said my name, asked if I was okay. I didn't answer, the sound of the commotion dying around me as the heavy monkey of sleep rested its warm, hairy ass on my eyelids.”

“Fred whispered, “Okay. If I don’t come back, and say they don’t got my body, like if Justin eats me or somethin’, tell everybody you don’t know what happened. Make it mysterious. And then a year later spread rumors that you’ve seen me wanderin’ around town. That way I’ll be like fuckin’ Bigfoot, everybody claiming to have seen me here and there. Legend of Fred Chu.” John nodded, as if he were committing this to memory. He lit his own firebombs, glanced up at me and asked,“You got any final requests, in case this don’t end well?” “Yeah. Avenge my death.”