“A gun. I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought.”

“A gun I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. I’d spent my life focusing on hand to hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so… well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didn’t know. Did it matter? I didn’t know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.”

“From the people who brought you "zero tolerance," I present the Gun-Free Zone! Yippee! Problem solved! Bam! Bam! Everybody down! Hey, how did that deranged loner get a gun into this Gun-Free Zone?”

“Oh, and by the way, I brought a gun." - Dekka "OMG, are we going to be in danger?" - Taylor " No, Taylor. The gun is in case you get on my nerves." - Dekka”

“I write so the endangered thoughts roaming naked and vulnerable through the misty jungles of my mind aren't slain by the guns of practical living.”

“Trent, do you have any weapons? Like a gun?” He looked at me in disgust. “You’re here to protect me,” he said as he closed the distance between us and stood beside me. “You didn’t bring a weapon?” “Yeah, I brought a weapon,” I snapped as I brought my splat gun out and aimed it at the ceiling where the sounds were coming from. “I just thought that since you’re a freaking murderer you might have a gun, too (...)”