“She’s an old lady,” Barron says. “And she’s been locked up for years. Let her have some fun. She needs to blow off steam. Seduce old dudes. Lose money at canasta.”

“She’s calling our house. What ten-year-old girl needs to call a boy’s house? A slutty ten-year-old girl, that’s who. She’s got her sights on our son, and before we know it, she’s going to be giving him blow jobs on the back of the bus and forcing him to watch porn with her. This is our BABY, Carter!”

“You think Bernadette Maguire killed him?”“Uh… no. She’s, like I said, she’s old.”“Old people can kill people too.”“I know, but…”“She could be a ninja.”“She’s not a ninja, for God’s sake. She’s somebody’s great grandmother.”“I want you to think carefully about this, Kenny. Have you ever seen her with a sword?”“What?”“How about throwing stars?”“This is ridiculous.”“Have you ever seen her dressed up as a ninja? That would have been my first clue.”The girl sucked in her cheeks so she wouldn't laugh out loud.”

“He loves her for everything she is and is not. She’s old enough to appreciate that.”

“She’s their secret weapon! They call her Trasha, and she’s eight years old. I hear they discovered her at the Pacific Mall arcade, playing Drum-Mania. She has so much A.D.D., it’s not even funny.”

“Tonight when she came down to the front desk she was wearing neon green hot pants and a pink leopard print jacket. But the best part was that her boots almost matched her jacket. I think she’s on to something. Why let the fact that you’re 65-years-old interfere with your ability to dress like a colorblind fourteen-year-old?”