“Then Tom wiggled his pecs at me and dove into the lake.”

“Throughout the course of the day, Bobby Tom's irritation over his artificially oiled and dirt-smeared chest and his unzipped jeans had flared into righteous indignation. They were treating him like a sex object! It was damned demeaning, that's what it was, being reduced to a set of oil pecs and a tight ass. Shit. A dozen years in the NFL, and this was what it had all come down to. Pecs and ass.”

“My Mommy likes to wiggle And it really makes me giggle. The music keeps her moving And she's smiling as she's grooving.She goes...Wiggle, wiggle to the left; wiggle to the right, Wiggle, wiggle, jiggle, jiggle - Dancing through the night...”

“I’ll shoot,” she murmured against his rock-solid pecs, burrowing the muzzle of her Glock into his abdomen.“Go ahead, sweetheart. Add it to the tally for the night. It’ll sting like a bitch, but I guarantee it won’t kill me.”

“Pec-tacle?You know, like spectacle but with more dude nipples.”

“A retaliator behaves like a hawk when he is attacked by a hawk, and like a dove when he meets a dove. When he meets another retaliator he plays like a dove. A retaliator is a conditional strategist. His behaviour depends on the behaviour of his opponent.”