“When he said to give him the sword, I don’t think he meant for you to stick it in his guts.”

“That's the famous vampire Helgarson you're riding with, isn't it? Is he fond of lattes?""I don't know." I looked over at Leif, who was grinning-he was hearing both sides of the conversation, of course-and said, "Malina wants to know if you like lattes, and I want to know if you're famous.""No to both," he said, as we screamed onto the 202 on-ramp."Sorry, Malina," I said to the phone. "He's not famous.""Perhaps it would be better to call infamous. It is irrelevant at this point. What is relevant is that my sisters and I are not great warriors. Were the odds even and they did not cheat with modern weapons, I would say, yes, we could walk in and win a magical battle against most opponents. But we are outnumbered more than three to one.""How many are there?""Twenty-two. Some of them have firearms, but they are not great warriors either. And while they may be expecting you, Mr. O'Sullivan, they will not be expecting Mr. Helgarson to get involved. I imagine the two of you together will be quite formidable.""She's complimenting our martial prowess, Leif," I said to him."I feel more manly already," He said. The short distance on the 202 was already covered and we were merging onto the southbound 101."Hey, Malina, tell me how much you want to see us play with our swords.”

“Hamlet promised himself he’d throw down afterward, but I think perhaps when he said, “From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!” the limits of blank verse weakened his resolve somehow. If he’d been free to follow the dictates of his conscience rather than the pen of Shakespeare, perhaps he would have abandoned verse altogether, like me, and contented himself with this instead: “Bring it, muthafuckas. Bring it.”

“Tell her I am Peace Dawg but I think her cats are closely allied with The Man. I'm going to stick it to them.”

“Did you get me that movie about Genghis Khan?'It's in the Netflix queue, but that's not the surprise. You don't need to worry, it'll be something good. I just don't want you to feel depressed about going home.'Oh, I won't. But it would be cool to have a stream like this in the backyard. Can you make one?'Ummm... no.'I figured. Can't blame a hound for trying.Oberon was indeed surprised when we got back home to Tempe. Hal had made the arrangements for me and Oberon perked up as soon as we were dropped off by the shuttle from the car rental company.'Hey, smells like someone's in my territory,' he said.'Nobody could be here without my permission, you know that.''Flidais did it.''That isn't Flidais you smell, believe me.'I opened the front door, and Oberon immediately ran to the kitchen window that gazed upon the backyard. He barked joyously when he saw what was waiting for him there.'French poodles! All black and curly with poofy little tails!''And every one of them in heat.''Oh, WOW! Thanks Atticus! I can't wait to sniff their asses!'He bounded over to the door and pawed at it because the doggie door was closed to prevent the poodles from entering.'You earned it, buddy. Hold on, get down off the door so I can open it for you, and be careful, don't hurt any of them.'I opened the door, expecting him to bolt through it and dive into his own personal canine harem, but instead he took one step and stopped, looking up at me with a mournful expression, his ears drooping and a tiny whine escaping his snout.'Only five?”

“I think he got your goat, Atticus! And I've been meaning to ask you about the expression. When people get your goat, what do they do with it? Do they eat it or hold it for ransom or what?”

“Wooo!’ he said, slamming his shot glass down and coughing a bit. ‘That’s good stuff.’I agreed heartily. ‘Shall we do another one?’ I asked.‘Oh no,’ Jesus said quietly, his eyes growing round. ‘This is one of those situations where I have to stop and ask myself, what would I do?”