“So how do you know him? (Shahara)I knocked on his door one day and said, ‘Hi, I’m here to rob you. Hope you don’t mind. Oh, and by the way, will you be my friend?’ (Syn)”

“You have a lot of faith in luck, don’t you? (Shahara)Not at all. She’s a vicious bitch who seldom knocks on my door. (Syn)”

“You do know I am my father’s son, right? People don’t talk to me that way and live. (Syn)Oh, like I fear you. Never. Besides, a fight might dislodge whatever has crawled up your sphincter and bring back the much nicer version of you. (Shahara)”

“What now? (Shahara)I’m thinking. (Syn)Could you think a little quicker? (Shahara)You’re not helping. (Syn)You’re lucky you’re still breathing and not limping. (Shahara)”

“You have some severe mental problem I need to be aware of, don’t you? (Shahara)Just because I eat babies for breakfast and pick my teeth with their bones doesn’t mean I’m nuts. (Syn)Any other weird habits I should be aware of? (Shahara)Just my need to dance naked in the streets under the light of a full moon. (Syn)”

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? (Shahara)Other than the fact that I feel like my rib just punctured a lung, sure, I’m all right. (Syn)”