“That face. That body. And you know he’s packing. Look at the angle on that dangle.”

“Look at him, he’s slain another dangling participle.”

“I just thought vampires would look, you know, vicious while drinking blood," I said. "You look like you're in kindergarten with your juice pack.”

“I don’t look for faces in clouds, I look for clouds in faces. And the best place to look is at the face of my friend, Carl Cumulonimbus, who I nicknamed “Rain Factory,” because he’s always either in a dark and stormy mood, or crying heavily.”

“You know, you may look like that actor, but the only way I can tell for sure you’re him is if I see that six-pack”

“Half an ass,” he mutters, or at least that’s what it sounds like.  In my opinion it doesn’t really pack a whole lot of punch, but apparently I’m wrong and being called “half an ass” is the new mother of all insults because everyone else is riled.  Especially Nate, who looks like he’s a split second away from rearranging Xaevier’s face.”