“You think they've killed before?""I'd bet your ass on it""Why my ass?" Eyes slitted, Peabody jabbed a finger in the air. "Because it's bigger? Because it has more padding? That's hitting below the belt.""Your ass is below your belt. I'd bet mine, too, if it makes you feel better.”
“Well if that's the kind of pride you're talking about, you can bet your ass, I'm going to mess with it.”
“Was I bitter? Absolutely. Hurt? You bet your sweet ass I was hurt. Who doesn't feel a part of their heart break at rejection. You ask yourself every question you can think of, what, why, how come, and then your sadness turns to anger. That's my favorite part. It drives me, feeds me, and makes one hell of a story.”
“I guess ,you want revenge," Ruthless Me, whispered. You bet your sweet ass, I do.”
“Sitting on my ass all day long is fun and all, but I’d rather sit on your ass. More padding, like an overstuffed sofa.”
“If someone says there's a portal to hell under some rocks, you bet your ass I'm going to move them.”