“No fair! Those guys ripped off what we rightfully stole!”

“I'm starving. When we check into our hotel, let's ask the desk clerk where we can find one of those vast pizzas.""What are you talking about?""Your guidebook says Florence is a city of vast pizzas. Look it up yourself.""Those are vast piazzas, not pizzas! It means public squares!"Dan's face fell. "Oh."Amy sighed. "I honestly thought the clue hunt took the dweeb out of you. No such luck.”

“The au pair was bug-eyed. "What happened back there?""It's not our fault!" Dan babbled. "Those guys are crazy! They're like mini-Darth Vaders without the mask!""They're Benedictine monks!" Nellie exclaimed. "They're men of peace! Most of them are under vows of silence!""Yeah, well, not anymore," Dan told her. "They cursed us out pretty good. I don't know the language, but some things you don't have to translate.”

“Art theft gave a guy an appetite.”

“Amy turned to Nellie. "Can you create a diversion to draw the clerk outside?"The au pair was wary. "What kind of diversion?""You could pretend to be lost," Dan proposed. "The guy comes out to give you directions, and we slip inside.""That's the most sexist idea I've ever heard," Nellie said harshly. "I'm female, so I have to be clueless. He's male, so he's got a great sense of direction.""Maybe you're from out of town," Dan suggested. "Wait–you are from out of town."Nellie stashed their bags under a bench and set Saladin on the seat with a stern "You're the watchcat. Anybody touches those bags, unleash your inner tiger."The Egyptian Mau surveyed the street uncertainly. "Mrrp." Nellie sighed. "Lucky for us there's no one around. Okay, I'm going in there. Be ready."The clerk said something to her–probably May I help you? She smiled apologetically. "I don't speak Italian.""Ah–you are American." His accent was heavy, but he seemed eager to please. "I will assist you." He took in her black nail polish and nose ring. "Punk, perhaps, is your enjoyment?""More like a punk/reggae fusion," Nellie replied thoughtfully. "With a country feel. And operatic vocals."The clerk stared in perplexity.Nellie began to tour the aisles, pulling out CDs left and right. "Ah–Artic Monkeys–that's what I'm talking about. And some Bad Brains–from the eighties. Foo Fighters–I'll need a couple from those guys. And don't forget Linkin Park..."He watched in awe as she stacked up an enormous armload of music. "There," she finished, slapping Frank Zappa's Greatest Hits on top of the pile. "That should do for a start.""You are a music lover," said the wide-eyed cashier."No, I'm a kleptomaniac." And she dashed out the door.”

“Sugar maple!" Mary-Todd Holt knelt over her husband. "Are you all right?"Eisenhower sat up, and egg-size lump blooming on his crown. "Of course I'm all right!" he managed, his words slurred. "You think a little insect can stop me?"Reagan was unconvinced. "I don't know, Dad. She brained you with a baseball bat!""Hockey stick," Dan corrected."Those could be your last words, brat–”

“Hamilton was bug-eyed. "Who are those people?"Jonah held his head. "Man, I should have known it was a mistake to say I'd be leaving town soon! Why do fans have to be so literal?""Are they going to let us go get the faxes?" Hamilton asked.Jonah stared at him. "You're kidding, right?”