“Maybe he's just... craving the meatloaf?"Dani hops off the counter and gives me the once over. "Craving the meatloaf? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

“Michael lifted a menu from a stack on the counter and opened it. 'What's meatloaf?' I get the meat part, but a loaf of it?”

“We even talked like Hemingway characters, though in travesty, as if to deny our discipleship: That is your bed, and it is a good bed, and you must make it and you must make it well. Or: Today is the day of the meatloaf. The meatloaf is swell. It is swell but when it is gone the not-having meatloaf will be tragic and the meatloaf man will not come anymore.”

“It’s like a meatloaf.”

“I don't care what your nose says! The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!""Meatloaf sandwiches are good! But this is a half-blood scent, I swear. They are on board!""Bah, your brain isn't on board!”

“Meatloaf is meatloaf is not a true statement. You can have gravy on top, ketchup on top, and don’t forget you can also have love on top--however, you must understand that I would do anything, but I won’t do that.”