“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.”

“Minho looked at Thomas, a serious expression on his face. "If I don't see you on the other side," he said in a sappy voice, "remember that I love you.”

“Dude, you tried to slice my you-know-what's off!" Thomas laughed, something that he hadn't done in a long time. He welcomed it happily. "Too bad I didn't. Could've saved the world from future little Minhos.”

“Listen,' Thomas said, slowly getting to his feet, hoping Minho wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. “There’s something about us. We’re not just random shanks who showed up on your doorstep. We’re valuable. Alive, not dead.” The anger on Jorge’s face lessened ever so slightly. Maybe a spark of curiosity. But what he said was 'What’s a shank?”

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

“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.”

“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.”