“I think you should kill him and eat his brain," Mr. Frostee said quickly.That's not the answer to every problem in interpersonal relations," Cobb said, hopping out.”

“Mr Cobb was my escort. Such a nice escort, Mr Cobb. So attentive. You should see him sober. I should see him sober. Somebody should see him sober. I mean, just for the record. So it could become a part of history, that brief flashing moment, soon buried in time, but never forgotten - when Larry Cobb was sober.”

“Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton."He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.”

“Grandpa?" Declan raised his eyebrows."We keep him in the shed out back," Jack said helpfully. "So he doesn't eat dog brains.”

“So?" Bob said. "Hat up, go kill her. Problem solved." "Bob," I said. "You can't just go around killing people." "I know. That's why you should do it." "No, no. I can't go around killing people, either.”

“No," I said finally."Slowness in Answering," she said into the handheld. "When's the last time you slept?""1940" I said promptly, which is the problem with Quickness in Answering.”