“You know what punk is? a bunch of no-talent guys who really, really want to be in a band. Nobody reads music, nobody plays the mandolin, and you're too dumb to write songs about mythology or Middle-earth. So what's your style? Three chords, cranked out fast and loud and distorted because your instruments are crap and you can't play them worth a damn. And you scream your lungs out to cover up the fact that you can't sing. It should suck, but here's the thing - it doesn't. Rock and roll can be so full of itself, but not this. It's simple and angry and raw.”

“Nobody got me out," Nellie replied. "They just let me go. They think I'm a deranged Jonah Wizard fan. Apparently, the hotel's full of them. A couple of idiots actually jumped off the front balcony. Can you picture that?""In Technicolor," Amy said bitterly."That low-down KGB reject!" Dan fumed. "I can't believe she cheated me–right when I was in the middle of cheating her!”

“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.”

“Check it out."Jonah removed the bubble wrap and held up the picture for his three cousins.Dan took a step backward. The shock was almost as powerful as it had been the day before at the Uffizi. "It's perfect! It's every bit as disgusting as the real one!"Amy nodded. "And so fast. We only called you yesterday."Jonah shrugged. "Even the Janus take a short cut every now and then. You can do a lot with digitization these days. You break the picture down to squares and reproduce them one at a time. The other two are just as fly.""You mean, hog ugly," Hamilton amended. "The serpents don't help," Dan put in critically. "Live fat spaghetti. Lady, if you're thinking of a modeling career, forget it!" The rapper clucked sympathetically. "You guys just don't appreciate the power of the visual image. The Wiz used to be like that–until Gangsta Kronikles. When you're in film industry, you understand the whole picture's-worth-a-thousand-words deal."Hamilton rolled his eyes. "Here we go again.”

“They've got these things called lockers," I raved on. "The Halls are lined with them. And you won't believe what they're for! They're for locking stuff away-so other people won't steal it! Why can't everyone share?" ~ Cap”

“A bronze plaque read: GAIUS PLINIUS CAECILIUS SECUNDUSDan made a face. "Get a load of the guy with the funny name.""I think that's Pliny the younger, the famous Roman writer," Amy supplied. She bent down to read the English portion of the tablet. "Right. In A.D. 79, Pliny chronicled the destruction of Pompeii by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. It's one of the earliest eyewitness accounts of a major disaster."Dan yawned. "Doesn't this remind you of the clue hunt? You know–you telling me a bunch of boring stuff, and me not listening?”

“Desperately, Phoenix attempted to maneuver both tips of the instrument around the bullet. He knew that each move caused Nellie unimaginable pain, but he could not grasp the target. "It's no use," he sobbed. "And my hand is going numb."In a frenzy, Nellie shouted something into the gag, but no one could understand her."I beg your pardon, child?" queried Alistair.Nellie spat out the rag and rasped, "Get the Kabra chick!""Natalie?" Fiske exclaimed. "She's fallen completely to pieces.""Get her!" Nellie demanded. "Anybody with eyebrows plucked like that knows how to use a tweezers!"Reagan bounded across the room and came back with a shivering, mewling Natalie."I can't!" she wheezed.Fiske poured alchohol over the girl's beautifully manicured fingers. "You must."Still protesting, her eyes tightly shut, she took over the instrument from Phoenix. "I can't do it! You can't make me—oh!" She said in sudden surprise. "This?" And when she pulled the tweezers out of the wound, the tips were firmly grasping a flattened, blood-slimed bullet.Nellie laughed—and promptly fainted.”