“I'd hate to be a balding man named Harry Harrison.”

“Rolf Harris is a hard man to hate, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try”

“There was no doorman outside Harrison Kinuye's house, just a Phillite senior leaning into a huge stone urn. He extricated himself as I reached the door. "Hey," he greeted me, sending out plumes of condensed breath and beer fumes. "Thought I was gonna heave.""Okay," I said. Apparently,that satisfied them, because he opened the front door for me with a clumsy flourish.I was in.That simple. I'd spent the entire walk over worried that I wasn't going to get past the door,I'd watched Harrison's YouTube video (cleverly posted under the complicted name "Harrison Kinuye's Party") three times to be sure of the password. The whole video consisted of Harrison holding a piece of paper with the address, date, and time of the party. Of course,it read backward, but that wasn't much of a challenge, and I suspected it wasn't deliberate on his part. At the eighteen-second mark, he opened his mouth and let out a massive, echoing belch.Fade to black. I'd been afraid that was the password and that I would have to burn for admittance.”

“And I'd marry you, Harry. Because it rhymes.”

“We take the elevator to the third floor, to the office of Dr. Harrison Chance. His name alone has put me off. Why not Dr. Victor?”

“I hate him like a fat man hates salad! If I had to choose between hanging with him and a hard kick in the groin, I'd consider the kick.All Things Work Together”