“I have a totally unhealthy and unrealistic fear of being eaten by a great white shark. This is because I belong to a very specific demographic called American Child Whose Parents Made the Ill-Advised Decision To Allow Her To Watch the Movie Jaws At a Sleepover During Her Formative Years.”

“Well, Faye, dear, I’m sure Harlow’s sorry she didn’t think to ask if you’d been eaten by a shark. That’s totally on her.”

“Faye, if you got eaten by another shark, would you please at least have the decency to say so? My time is kind of limited, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

“I try not to laugh too loud, afraid a bark-like noise will be mistaken by any great whites lurking in the area as the distress call of a juvenile seal.”

“Suddenly, the giant, three-headed dog that guards the entrance to the Underworld appears next to her—sans two of its heads—and sits down. As a child, we had a neighbor with a Great Dane, and I know they’re about three feet tall at the shoulder. Allow another twelve inches for their T-Rex-sized heads, and you’ve got a dog that this woman could throw a saddle on and ride like a pony.”

“I think it would be prudent to advise you that due to extraordinary circumstances beyond our control, the original plan we had for participating in and extending the duration of the IPT Main Event has been drastically altered, specifically as it pertains to certain individuals competing—”

“Pretty great view. You think they’d do something about the sharks.”