“We were lining up and counting off nice and easy till you came stumbling through like a doped-up bull,' Minho responded.”

“He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?''Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks.”

“Yeah, right," Minho said. "And Frypan's gonna start having little babies, Winston'll get rid of his monster acne, and Thomas here'll actually smile for once."Thomas turned to Minho and exaggerated a fake smile. "There, you happy?""Dude," he responded. "You are one ugly shank.”

“Wonder why we can do this,' he called out with his mind. The mental effort of speaking to her was already straining—he felt a headache forming like a bulge in his brain. 'Maybe we were lovers,' Teresa said. Thomas tripped and crashed to the ground. Smiling sheepishly at Minho, who’d turned to look without slowing, Thomas got back up and caught up to him. 'What?' he finally asked. He sensed a laugh from her, a watery image full of color.”

“Shuck it,” Minho responded. “I’m tougher than nails. I could still kick your pony-lovin’ butt with twice this pain.” Thomas shrugged. “I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now.”

“Too bad we don't have a flashlight.""Thanks for stating the obvious, Mr. Thomas," Minho replied.”

“Minho was the first one to speak since the food had come. “Maybe we should just give in to those shuckfaces. Do what they want. One day we’ll all sit around, fat and happy.”Thomas knew he didn’t mean a word of it. “Yeah, maybe you can find a nice pretty girl who works here, settle down, get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics.”Minho kept at it. “WICKED’s going to figure out this blueprint business and we’ll all live happily ever after.”