“Sometimes between lunch and dinner, when there's a lull, Jill and Shaniqua and I will sit around and fantasize about what we'd do if a REAL celebrity walked into the place, like Chad Michael Murray (although we've gone off him a bit since his divorce) or Jared Padalecki, or even Prince William (you never know. He could have gotten his yacht lost, or whatever.)”

“When I asked him for some explanation as to why he wanted to kill me, he said it was because he didn't like his jobs. When I asked him since when had he not liked his jobs, he said since always. When I remarked that he had never told me this, and that I had gotten the impression that he had liked them, he said: "How is that possible? You know me. Do I strike you as stupid or boring?""No.""Then how could you think I would enjoy being an etiquette expert, or a Weight Watchers' counselor, or a stripper? How could you think that someone like me, with my mind, my character, would derive any satisfaction from those things?”

“Apron,” Chad said, sounding a little nervous. “I’ve been wondering. Do you think you and me would have been friends, if, you know, we were in seventh grade together?” I thought about it for a second. I thought about Rennie and Jenny Pratt making fun of Chad, his swishy way of walking down the halls, and Johnny Berman and Sherman Howl writing faggot on the top of his desk and picking him last for dodge ball. And I thought about how, if I ignored them all and decided to be friends with Chad anyway, he would have been my only one. “Yes,” I nodded. “We’d be friends.” “Yup,” Chad said smiling as far as his cracked lips would let him. “That’s what I think, too.”

“William slapped him on the shoulder, sending Sex into rapturous convulsions. “Before we do this, I’ve got one question for you. And you can’t lie. This is too important.”A bit sick to his stomach at what such a debaucher could want to know, Paris cast his attention to the black-haired, blue-eyed he-devil. “Ask.”“Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?”That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.“So that’s a no?” William asked.Paris worked his jaw. “Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge.” With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, “ So not cool,” from the bastard as he fell…fell…Splat.”

“Do you wanna go out for lunch? In celebration?” I askedand then touched my lips in thought. “Or we could swing by the storeand get something really good for dinner?”Wesley glanced at me sideways with a puzzled expression Icouldn’t figure out. He looked back at the road. “Maybe later,” he said, chewing on his thumbnail.“Why? Since we’re out, we might as well stop….”“We can’t right now. There are things I have to do first,” he said,looking at me with a grin.“What?” I asked, innocently walking into his trap, though Ishould’ve known better by now.“Like take you home and fuck you up, down, and sideways,” heanswered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.”

“A soldier's life revolves around his mail. Like many others, I've been able to follow my kid's progress from the day he was born until now he is able to walk and talk a little, and although I have never seen him I know him very well.”