“You are working up to Mr. Fantastic Fiction levels of Zombie Expert, which is like playing Guitar Hero on some level that actually melts the guitar controller, burning your fingers with searing hot plastic till you scream in pain. Only with words. And zombies.”

“You know Dahmer was a cannibal. You think he was a zombie?”Tom smirked. “I’m no expert, but not all cannibals are zombies.”

“Something occurred to me, and I sat up to face him. "Earlier, I asked you if you brought the guitar everywhere," I said, "and you got kind of wierd. Why? It's not like you're one of those jerks who always has a guitar but can't actually play it." "Don't you know?" "No." He grinned. "Everyone knows that the whole point of learning guitar is to impress girls. You can't just say, 'sorry, I'd love to show off, but I forgot my guitar at home,' can you?" Now it was my turn to laugh. "I guess not." "So now you know my secret," he said. "Did it work?" I pretended to think about it. "Yeah, it worked.”

“Please, do you see the apocalypse? Because I'd give up on that happening until you do. And even then, it's negotiable.""I'm holding out for a hot zombie.""Yeah, or, like, the hot scientist who finds the cure.""Or the hot government agent who's assigned to protect you from the international terrorist who plans to wipe out the nation with the world's first zombie virus weapon of mass destruction.""Because you carry the zombie virus antidote in your blood.""Exactly.""It's a recessive trait.”

“those times i burned my guitar it was like a sacrifice. we all burn things we love. i love my guitar”

“They said, "You have a blue guitar, you do not play things as they are." The man replied, "Things as they are are changed upon the blue guitar.”