“How often did he feel it now, this gorgeous, furtive seclusion? In the bath sometimes, maybe. Though Jean failed to understand his need for periodic isolation and regularly dragged him back to earth mid-soak by hammering on the locked door in search of bleach or dental floss.”

“No wonder he has such nice teeth. They probably pay him in dental floss.”

“I wrote a song about dental floss but did anyone's teeth get cleaner?”

“YOU COULD LOCK the Gasman in a padded cell with some dental floss and a bowl of Jell-O, and he'd find a way to make something to explode.”

“Fuck," Ranger said.Ranger didn't often curse and he rarely raised his voice. The fuck has been entirely conversational. Like he was now midly inconvenienced. He put his Bates boot to the door and the door popped open..”

“He opened the front door and Gwen said, “Lock?”He stopped immediately. “Yeah?” Did he have to sound so eager when he was the one making the decision to go? Damn him! “Uh…could you leave him here? He kind of comes with the place.” Frowning, Lock glanced down. “Oh, jeez!”Oh, jeez?“Sorry about that.” He immediately dropped the lion he’d dragged from the couch to the door, back to the couch, and back to the door. “Habit. Usually I bat my prey around until they stop fighting and drag them off to the brush to…well…you know.” He looked down at Mitch. “Sorry about that…uh…”“Mitch,” she told him. “Mitch. Right. Sorry about that, Mitch. And nice to meet you.”