“I hated meatloaf. It was like something that Satan pooped out after an eternity of constipation. So I told Mom because I was honest that way. I sat back, squared my shoulders, and met her eyes, all confident-like."Mom, meatloaf's like something that Satan pooped out after an eternity of constipation. It should be outlawed, frankly, and serving it for dinner is like child abuse and should carry with it some pretty stiff penalties.”

“Hi Liz! You're home!" I replied, my voice louder than it probably should've been. "Hey, how's it going?" she asked, her eyes narrowing and moving shiftily from me to Peter and back. "It's going good. Even better. Is it? Yeah, I guess. Good. Really good. Totally better," I babbled, while Peter could only manage a raised hand in greeting and a weird phrase like, "Down the basement." Liz rolled her eyes and trudged off, calling back as she vanished from view, "I want the results of pregnancy tests from both of you by the time I get out of the shower!”

“Listen, you," she hissed. "He's gay, he's my son, and I'm premenstrual. So don't—and I mean don't—even think about it." ~ Mom”

“I know what you mean. I usually take it out on my older sister. You can lease her for a weekend or something if you need a psychological punching bag. I'll even give you a discount.”

“And so the Afternoon Weekday Date Scorecard went like this: gay boys, 3. Bedsheets, below zero. Vatican-enforced check on virginity, 10. Sometimes life just plain sucked beyond the suckiest of suckage. And I was out of clean bedsheets, too.”

“Calais took all of a fraction of a second—I've yet to learn how to gauge his speed—to appear beside me, taking the alarm clock and shutting it down. Then he worked on my bonds, leaving my gag for last because he wanted to sneak in a kiss. Which he did. Too bad I was too annoyed and cramped to respond, so I just made like a limp doll that made a face at him while he got all Romeo on me.”

“Are there any other questions?" I cleared my throat. "Yeah," I replied, raising my voice. "Can I get paid for being the repeat victim in these practice runs? It's not easy, you know, getting tied up or stuffed insidesomething, while everyone figures out what catchphrases to use when destroying people." For a few seconds, Magnifiman was quiet. "Okay, are there any other questions?" he asked. I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "I'll have to take this up with my union," I said. Of course, I just needed to form one.”