“One fine day, in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other. They pulled out their swords and shot one another. One deaf cop, on the beat heard the noise, and came and shot the two dead boys.”
“That’s right boys, I made twins. Two babies, one shot,” he said with his chest puffed out.”
“One boy, one girl, two hearts beating wildly.”
“So that's how we end up helping Aviva pick out a male escort. Even Darcy is impressed with Eugene's organization; each profile in the boy binder has two pictures, a head shot and a full-body shot, and lists essential information: age, school, height, weight, extracurriculars, hobbies, and dance ability (which ranges from "occasional Dance Dance Revolution participation" to "so good he could back up the Biebs").”
“One or two of these scoundrel statesmen should be shot once a-year, just to keep the others on their good behavior.”
“Sword? Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though. He'll lend you one.”