“Can you giggle while racing for your life and protecting a six-year-old? I can.”

“What are you doing in there, waxing your mustache?” Iggy yelled, pounding on the bathroom door.I yanked the door open and pushed him backward hard, making him stagger. “I don’t have a mustache, you idiot!” Iggy giggled and put his arms up to protect himself in case I punched him. “And you know what?” I added. “You don’t have one either. Well, maybe in a couple years. You can always hope.”I left him in the hallway, anxiously fingering his upper lip.”

“I muttered a swear word to myself. After I heard Angel cussing like a sailor when she stubbed her toe, my new resolution was to watch my language. All I needed was a six-year-old mutant with a potty mouth”

“Jane-Sweetie, we've talked about your weight-" my mother began.I'm only eight years old," I said. "How about I promise to be anorexic later?”

“Jackpot, Max! Jackpot!" It was Fang and he was giggling hysterically.For those of you just joining us, Fang doesn't giggle, esspecially hysterically.”

“Life is a great big canvas. Throw all the paint you can at it.”

“I whirled around and saw no one. No psychotic mad scientists, anyway."Jackpot, Max! Jackpot!" It was was Fang, and he was giggling hysterically. For those of you just joining us, Fang doesn't giggle. Especially hysterically.So for a second, this seemed like one of the weirder dreams of recent days. ”