“Onion ring?" Zara said, handing her a leftover carton.As everyone knows, the offer of an onion ring is not to be taken lightly. Onion rings are far more valuable than their throwaway side dish counterparts -- french fries and potato chips -- and, as such, have brought about numerous reconciliations throughout history.”

“I was a teenage boy once too, you know," Uncle Mort said, popping back up. "I know what your brain looks like. It's a three-ring circus in there.”

“Lex froze. "What boy?""That boy I saw you with, before you came up to ring the bell. The windows of this house are fully functional, you know."Lex didn't even bother with a lie this time. "His name is Driggs. He's my partner.""Ah, partner. How very Law and Order.""Shut up, that's just how it works.""I see. And have you two had a romp in the hay yet, or would that upset Mr. Frizzle the rooster?”

“At least yours talks," Elysia said, irritably shoving a fry into her mouth. "Mine just stares. Like a cow.”

“What?" he asked."Nothing. Your bony hands of death amuse me, that's all.""Wait until yours look the same," he said, preparing to scythe."Wait - what?" She batted the sapphire blade out of his hands. "What do you mean? Is that why everyone around here has such creepy fingers?""Yeah." He bent down to pick up his scythe. "I don't know why it happens, though. Probably the same weird reason our hair goes all wonky.""What?" she barked, knocking his scythe to the ground once more."Stop that!""What happens to our hair?"He gestured to the disaster atop his head. "You think I want to look like a drunken hedgehog all the time? It's from hanging out in the ether so much. It messes with your follicles or something. Doesn't happen to everyone, but I can assure you that Ferbus's wasn't always the color of a prison jumpsuit, Zara wasn't born Silvylocks, and Mort's been rocking the electrocution look for years. Look, yours has gotten straighter already."Lex ran a hand through her hair. It had lost some of its poofyness. There had been so many other circuses of insanity to deal with that she hadn't even noticed. It was calm, manageable, even - she shuddered to think it - sleek and shiny."Oh my God," she said in disgust. "I'm a shampoo commercial.”

“We were just showering," Lex muttered."Of course," Uncle Mort said. "Everyone knows how impossible it is to zestfully clean without assistance.”

“The list of scars my students have sustained at the hand of your daughter grows longer each week. Poor Logan Hochspring's arm will forever carry an imprint of her dental records!""You bit him?" Lex's father said."He called me a wannabe vampire. What was I supposed to do?""Oh, I don't know--maybe not bite him?”