“I know what you're thinking," Grandma said into the silence. "Do I have anymore bullets in this here gun? Well, with all the confusion, what with being locked up in a refrigerator, I plumb forgot what was in here to start with. But being that this is a 45 magnum, the most powerful handgun in existence, and it could blow your head clean off, you just got to ask yourself one question. Do you feel lucky today? Well, do you, punk?"Christ," Spiro whispered. "She thinks she's f**king Clint Eastwood.”

“Grandma has a .45 long barrel that she keeps hidden from my mother. She got it from her friend Elsie, who picked it up at a yard sale. Probably it was in Grandma's purse. Grandma says it gives the bag some heft, in case she has to beat off a mugger. This might be true, but I think mostly Grandma likes pretending she is Clint Eastwood.”

“Sally put his gun back in his pants. "Guess I flunked the estrogen test."We all stared at his crotch, and Grandma said what Lula and I were thinking."I thought that bulge was your dingdong,"Grandma said."Jesus," Sally said, "who do you think I am, Thunder the Wonder Horse? My gun wouldn't fit in my purse.""You need to get a smaller gun," Lula said. "Ruins your lines with that big old Glock in your drawers.”

“What are you doing back at the bakery?” I asked [Diesel]. “Did you know Wulf was here?” “No. I knew food was here.”

“Grandma Mazur stood two feet back from my mother. "I gotta get me a pair if those," she said, eyeballing my shorts. "I've still got pretty good legs, you know." She raised her skirt and looked down at her knees. "What do you think? You think I'd look good in them biker things?" Grandma Mazur had knees like doorknobs.”

“Not that I've noticed." She looked down at my gun. "What a nice Glock. My sister carries a Glock, and she just loves it. I was thinking about trading in my .45, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My dead husband gave it to me for our first anniversary. Rest his soul.”

“You sure you don't want to go?” Grandma Mazur asked my mother.“I didn't know Moogey Bues,” my mother told her. “I've got better things to do than to go to a viewing of a perfect stranger.”“I wouldn't go either,” Grandma Mazur said, “but I'm helping Stephanie with this here manhunt. Maybe Kenny Mancuso will show up, and Stephanie will need some extra muscle. I was watching Television, and I saw how you stick your fingers in a person's eyes to slow them down.”“She's your responsibility,” my mother said to me. “She sticks her fingers in anybody's eyes I'm holding you accountable.”