“We are not going to die." Butters stared up at me, pale, his eyes terrified. "We're not?" "No. And do you know why?" He shook his head. "Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die." I hauled on the shirt even harder. "And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die.”

“Polka will never die.”

“Screw up my life?" He stared at me for a second and then said, deadpan, "I'm a five-foot-three, thirty-seven-year-old, single, Jewish medical examiner who needs to pick up his lederhosen from the dry cleaners so that he can play in a one-man polka band at Oktoberfest tomorrow." He pushed up his glasses with his forefinger, folded his arms, and said, "Do your worst.”

“Why?" I demanded of her. "Why bring the child into this? Why not just come straight to me?""Does it matter at this point?"I shrugged. "Not really. I'm curious."She stared at me for a moment and then she smiled. "You don't know."I eyed her warily. "Don't know what?""Dear boy," she said. "This was never about you."I scowled. "I don't understand.""Obviously," Arianna said, and gave me a stunning smile. "Die confused.”

“I mean, we're all going to die. We know that on an intellectual level. We figure it out when we're still fairly young, and it scares us so badly that we convince ourselves we're immortal for more than a decade afterwards.”

“Karrin smiled faintly and shook her head. "He always said you knew ghosts. You're sure it was really him?"Mort eyed her. "Me and everyone else, yeah."Karrin scowled and stared into the middle distance.Mort frowned and then his expression softened. "You didn't want it to be his ghost. Did you?"Murphy shook her head slowly, but said nothing."You needed everyone to be wrong about it. Because if it really was his ghost," Mort said, "it means that he really is dead."Murphy's face...just crumpled. Her eyes overflowed and she bowed her head. Her body shook in silence.”

“This is Waldo Butters, and his geek penis is longer and harder than any of ours put together.”