“Monty Python is like catnip for nerds. Once you get them started quoting it, they are constitutionally incapable of feeling depressed.”
“Wow you need to get some sun.”
“Shut up. I'm Irish.”
“I'd have to ask Oberon to leave him a present on his front doorstep. He'd do it camouflaged too, so that even if Mr. Semerdjian was watching - and he probably would be - it would appear to be undeniable, physical evidence that, sometimes, shit just happens.”
“Ye know what me Sean used to say, God rest his soul? He said, 'A friend will help ye move, Katie, but a really good friend will help ye move a body.”
“Whoa. He had ghouls on speed dial. My lawyer kicks so much ass.”
“It quickly became a tracking operation, though. My chariot could not keep up with his truck. By the time I caught up with him, his truck was parked in one of those asphalt wastelands. What are they called again"?
The Tuatha De Danann have no problem asking Druids for information. That's what we're for, after all. The secret to becoming an Old Druid instead of a dead Druid is to betray nary a hint of condescension when answering even the simplest questions.
"They are called parking lots," I replied.
"Ah, yes, thank you. He came out of a building called 'Crussh', holding one of these potions. Are you familar with the building, Druid?"
"I belive that is a smoothie bar in England."
"Quite right. So after I killed him and stowed his body next to the doe, I sampled his smooth concoction in the parking lot and found it to be quite delicious".
See, sentences like that are why I nurture a healthy fear of the Tuatha De Danann.”
“Hamlet promised himself he’d throw down afterward, but I think perhaps when he said, “From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!” the limits of blank verse weakened his resolve somehow. If he’d been free to follow the dictates of his conscience rather than the pen of Shakespeare, perhaps he would have abandoned verse altogether, like me, and contented himself with this instead: “Bring it, muthafuckas. Bring it.”
“I had privately changed 'This, too, shall pass' into 'You, too, shall die'.”
“What sealed the deal for me was that the cloak wouldn't come off without a generous donation of my tears. Those used to be almost impossible for me to summon, I admit, until I watched Field of Dreams. When Kevin Costner asks his dad at the end if he'd like to have a catch, I just completely lose my shit.”
“Malina looked incredulous. "Are you anything more than a Druid?"
"Of course I am. I own this shop and I play a mean game of chess, and I've been told that I'm a frakkin' Cylon."
"What's a frakkin' Cylon?"
"I don't know, but it sounds really scary when you say it with a Polish Accent.”
“Flidais clapped her hands in delight.
"Oh, I bet he nearly shat kine!"
That made me laugh - I hadn't heard that expression in a long, long time. I refrained from telling her that the modern expression would be "he had a cow", because I liked the original better.
"Yes, the kine he nearly shat would have fed several clans.”
“I have been around long enough to discount most superstitions for what they are: I was around when many of them began to take root, after all. But one superstition to which I happen to subscribe is that bad juju comes in threes. The saying in my time was, "Storm clouds are thrice cursed," but I can't talk like that and expect people to believe I'm a twenty-one year-old American. I have to say things like, "Shit happens, man.”
“You will respect my authori-tah!' Oberon said, in a passable imitation of Eric Cartman. I reminded him that I needed to concentrate. Sometimes dogs forget; they just get too excited.”
“There are many perks to living for twenty-one centuries, and foremost among them is bearing witness to the rare birth of genius. It invariably goes like this: Someone shrugs off the weight of his cultural traditions, ignores the baleful stares of authority, and does something his countrymen think to be completely batshit insane. Of those, Galileo was my personal favorite. Van Gogh comes in second, but he really was batshit insane.”
“A friend will help ye move, Katie, but a really good friend will help ye move a body.”
“When you're in the middle of a killing field and the fucking Chooser of the Slain tells you to do something, you do it.”
“The point is, Mrs. MacDonagh, that the universe is exactly the size that your soul can encompass. Some people live in extremely small worlds, and some live in a world of infinite possibility.”
“The widow’s eyebrows raised. “Ye’ve got all these nasty pooches to run around with and ye still might die?”
“I’m going to go fight with a god, some demons, and a coven of witches who all want to kill me,” I said, “so it’s a distinct possibility.”
“Are y’goin’ t’kill ’em back?”
“I’d certainly like to.”
“Attaboy,” the widow chuckled. “Off y’go, then. Kill every last one o’ the bastards and call me in the mornin’.”
“This guy is an epic douche. Kick his shiny ass, Atticus, Oberon said.
I compartmentalized his comment and resolved to enjoy it later. I glared at this would be usurper and said in my most authoritative voice, "Aenghus Og, you have broken Druidic law by killing the land around us and opening a gate to hell, unleashing demons on this plane. I judge you guilty and sentence you to death."
Amen, Atticus! Testify!”
“What do you know? She liked to be told she was scary. Kinky.”
“The Morrigan’s ideas of sport and mine varied widely. As a Chooser of the Slain, she tends to enjoy nothing so much as a protracted war. She hangs out with Kali and the Valkyries and they have a death goddesses’ night out on the battlefield.”
“She's kind of like a Mary Poppins just before she turns to the dark side of the Force," Oberon said. He was still behind the counter, but he had a good lok at her as she exited. "Let go of your anger, Malina! There's still good in you! The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully!”
“How would you take care of it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I know some ghouls. I make a couple calls, the guys come over for dinner, problem solved.”
“They can put away nine whole giants? There’s that many ghouls in town?”
“Probably not,” Leif admitted. “But whatever they do not eat tonight, they’ll take the rest to go.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You mean like a doggie bag?”
The vampire nodded with a thin trace of a smile. “They have a refrigerated truck, Atticus. These are practical guys.”
“You are telling me that your lawyer is a bloodsucking vampire?”
“Did you get me that movie about Genghis Khan?
'It's in the Netflix queue, but that's not the surprise. You don't need to worry, it'll be something good. I just don't want you to feel depressed about going home.'
Oh, I won't. But it would be cool to have a stream like this in the backyard. Can you make one?
'Ummm... no.'
I figured. Can't blame a hound for trying.
Oberon was indeed surprised when we got back home to Tempe. Hal had made the arrangements for me and Oberon perked up as soon as we were dropped off by the shuttle from the car rental company.
'Hey, smells like someone's in my territory,' he said.
'Nobody could be here without my permission, you know that.'
'Flidais did it.'
'That isn't Flidais you smell, believe me.'
I opened the front door, and Oberon immediately ran to the kitchen window that gazed upon the backyard. He barked joyously when he saw what was waiting for him there.
'French poodles! All black and curly with poofy little tails!'
'And every one of them in heat.'
'Oh, WOW! Thanks Atticus! I can't wait to sniff their asses!'
He bounded over to the door and pawed at it because the doggie door was closed to prevent the poodles from entering.
'You earned it, buddy. Hold on, get down off the door so I can open it for you, and be careful, don't hurt any of them.'
I opened the door, expecting him to bolt through it and dive into his own personal canine harem, but instead he took one step and stopped, looking up at me with a mournful expression, his ears drooping and a tiny whine escaping his snout.
'Only five?”
“Will you tell me about Genghis Khan’s whores while I’m in the bath?" "Hordes, not whores. He had both, though, now that you mention it." "Sounds like he was a busy guy." You have no idea.”
“Am I not a fearsome enemy?"
"You frighten me primally.”
“Memorable among the Saxon warriors were Hengist and his wife (? or horse), Horsa. Hengist made himself King in the South. Thus Hengist was the first English King and his wife (or horse), Horsa, the first English Queen (or horse).”
“I think the camouflage of fiction allows more authenticity – you know, acknowledging that it is a ‘fiction’, a terrific lie, and that you want it to be believed.”
“I thought my entire life was coming apart, but I think I just realized that sometimes the thing you think is going to ruin your life is the thing that saves you.”
“Grandmama said that the cherry blossom was life. Sweet and beautiful, but so darn short. Too short not to do what you wanna do. Too short to not spend it with the people…you love.”
“You can stay home,” V muttered. “You really can totally f-in’ stay the f home, you f’ed-up mother-f’ing f-twit.”
Lassiter clasped his breastplate, and swooned like Julie Andrews. “Don’t you love it when he can’t swear? Warms my cockles—it’s like watching a drunk on roller skates try to play dodgeball in the dark—”
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