“It would figure the best looking guy on this ward is gay...and he has a sexier than sin boyfriend...I swear to God I'm going to turn into a man. It's the only way".”
“Now wait a second..." Kenneth butted in.
"Yeah, we haven't asked you the questions yet," Brandon finished for Kenneth.
"Yeah, like what are your intentions toward our little Ryan," Patrick added, smirking.
"What do you do for a living?" Brandon added.
"Can you support Ryan's shoe fetish?" Kenneth threw his question in too.
"Hmm, okay, here are my answers. I plan on feeding him, dancing with him and God willing fucking him until he can't walk straight. I help infertile chickens have baby chickens, and I think so. I'm hoping his feet are about my size. We can share shoes and everything," Phillip answered.”
“I tried to whisper sweet nothings into your ear but you're way the fuck over there and I'm way the fuck over here.”
“Just remember, Sergeant Grabowski. You may be able to order me around, but we both know who makes your privates stand at attention.”
“Now, to get this gift you have to stay sharp. Keep your head down. Don't be a hero unless you have to. All you have to
do is survive. I know you can.”
“You couldn't lose me, Helen. Not even if you tried," he said, pulling on her arm to bring her closer to him. "And for the record, I aggree with you. I should be more compassionate. I never expected you to think I was perfect. I know I'm not."
"You are to me."
"That's all I care about," Lucas said quietly. "Not-my-cousin Helen.”
“It felt odd to realize she was frightened more by what he might know, and not of what he might be.”
“What happened?” Buc asked him. “I told her the truth about something,” Ga answered. “You’ve got to stop doing that,” Buc said. “It’s bad for people’s health.”
“In all, his outfit required nearly two thousand man-years of research and development, eight barrels of oil, and sixteen patent and trademark infringement lawsuits. All so he could possess casual style. A style that, in logistical requirements, was comparable to fielding a nineteenth-century military brigade.
But he looked good. Casual.”
“Jewels, lies, slips of paper, dried flowers, memories of thing long past, useless quotations, idle hands, beads, buttons, and mischief.”
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