“No, Lord Maccon was riproaring, tumble down, without a doubt, pickled beyond the gherkin.”

“Hello, princess,” said Lord Maccon to the vampire. “Got yourself into quite a pickle this time, didn't you?” Lord Akeldama looked him up and down. “My sweet young naked boy, you are hardly one to talk. Not that I mind, of course.”

“It was when he was so casually clever, however, that I wanted to pickle his gherkin.”

“I Preserve the nonviable embryo in formaldehyde for future study. Lord Maccon has been drinking my samples. When confronted, he admitted to be enjoying both the refreshing beverage and the 'crunchy pickled snack' as well. I was not pleased" (Professor Lyall to Madame Lefoux)”

“Lord Maccon, might we have words on the proper tying of a cravat? For my sanity’s sake?Lord Maccon was nonplussed. Professor Lyall, on the other hand, was pained. “I do what I can.” Lord Akeldama looked at him, pity in his eyes. “You are a brave man.”

“Lord Maccon was built like a brick outhouse, with opinions twice as unmoving and often equally full of crap.”