“Kitty, do you have the bottle?" "In my purse. Which is in my room. Not that I think I can find my room from here." "I'll get it," Martini said. He stood up and disappeared. Ten seconds later he was back, bottle in hand."What kept you?""That purse gets worse every time I look inside.”

“Do I really run like that?" (Kitty)"Yup," Martini confirmed. "Don't worry, I think it's sexy.""Thank God. I think I look like a cheetah on drugs.”

“I dug through my purse for the Glock. There is was, and I realized I'd never set the safety. I decided to consider this a great example of forethought rather than my being the stupidest gun handler on the planet.”

“I was on the floor. "Um, a little help?" Christopher put his hand down. Martini cleared his throat and Christopher's hand retracted. "I can handle it, thanks." "There's nothing amorous about pulling someone off the floor," Christopher muttered. "There is when I do it.”

“You cook?” Alfred asked Martini, clearly shocked.“I can dress myself, too. And sometimes I can handle all Field Operations for the entire Centaurion Division. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“You know, things you did and do to make sure you and Mom have such a great marriage?” “Oh! I gave that advice to Jeff already. Applies to him more than you.” “Share with my anyway.” Dad shrugged. “I told him that he just needed to remember three things. First, he doesn’t run your life, and after today, he won’t run his life, either. Second, in any argument, there is your wife’s side and then there is enemy camp; never choose enemy camp in an attempt to be reasonable, because it never works. And, third, to remember that a happy wife is a happy life.”

“It's a snake, then.''Rattler?''Most likely.'I was taking this extremely well. 'We have to kill it. By we, of course, I mean you. I'll stand here and scream.”