“I am Butler. Anything I say sounds scary.”

“We lost the crickets," she said. "Even you can't make that sound tough."..."I am Butler," he said with a straight-face. "Everything I say sounds tough. Now, get out of the lake, fairy.”

“I am unarmed. But Butler here, my ...ah...butler, has a Sig Saucer in his shoulder holster, two shrike-throwing knives in his boots, aderringer two-shot up his sleeve, garrotte wire in his watch, and three stun greanades concealed in variouse pockets. Anything else, Butler?”

“Anything else, Butler?""The cosh, sir.”

“This is the only way. I will not allow humans or fairies to die when I might have prevented it.” Butler would not give up. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a... like a good guy! There’s nothing in this for you.”

“Hey, bodyguard. You better get down to the gymnasium. This jumbo pixie guy is killing your sister." "Really?" said Butler, unconvinced. "Really. Juliet just does not seem to be herself. She can't put two moves together. It's pathetic, really. Everybody is betting against her." "I see," said Butler, straightening. Mulch held the door. "It's going to make things really interesting when you show up to help." Butler grinned. "I'm not coming to help. I just want to be there when she stops faking." "Ah," said Mulch, comprehension dawning on his face. "So I should switch my bet to Juliet?" "You certainly should" said Butler.”

“Everyone says that I have no sense of humor, then I construct a perfectly sound pun around a well-known psychological condition, and it is ignored.”