“The vampire leaned forward, tapping a scimitar claw. "Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?""Yep.""Is he carrying a moon on his pitchfork?""No, it's a pie.”

“You don’t return your phone calls.” The vampire leaned forward, tapping my doodle with a scimitar claw. “Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?”“Yep.”“Is he carrying the moon on his pitchfork?”“No, it’s a pie. What can I do for Atlanta’s premier Master of the Dead?”

“Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?""Yep.""Is he carrying the moon on his pitchfork?""Nope it's a pie.”

“The Dude just pounded his way in a straight line, convinced that the lion was a figment of his imagination and that the vampire ahead of him was just Grendel's deformed mutant brother.”

“The lion has to stay outside""He won't like it"The lion shook his mane. I looked at Curran. The lion melted. Skin stretched, bones twisted, and human Curran straightened. He was completely nude. Gloriously nude."Well," Hrefna said. "I always wondered why you went all shapeshifter. Explain things.”

“You're right, my problems are the biggest problems ever," George said. "No, honestly, it's horrible to be me. I'm rich, talented, and I make girls cry.""How do you make girls cry, exactly?"George turned to her. His blue eyes widened. His lovely face took on a forlorn, deeply troubled expression. He leaned forward, and, in a theatrical whisper, said, "My past is tragic. I wouldn't want to burden you with it. It's a pain I must suffer alone. In the rain. In silence.”

“Yep, Atlanta was burning. Again.”