“He’s pale, bald, and bony. He looks like a skeleton. And that, my friend, is precisely why I keep him in my closet.”
“Every town has its secrets.” He began. “San Felipe is no different. Skeletons are hidden in closets for a reason my friend. And trust me when I tell you, San Felipe has many skeletons. The moral of the story is; don’t go snooping into strange closets. You will only find sins and betrayal. Why do you think we drink tequila so much?”
“I prefer all of my skeletons out of the closet, to make more room for my shoes.”
“Valkyrie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friend is most likely dead.” “Of course he’s dead. He’s a skeleton.”
“I don’t have any skeletons in my closet that can’t be allowed out.”
“He’s always asking: ‘Is that new? I haven’t seen that before.’ It’s like, Why don’t you mind your own business? Solve world hunger. Get out of my closet.”