The Laughing Corpse

Stupidity isn't punishable by death. If it was, there would be a hell of a population drop.

People are supposed to fear the unknown, but ignorance is bliss when knowledge is so damn frightening.

His eyes widened just a bit, his lips flexed. I realized he was trying not to laugh. I hate it when people find my threats amusing.

Important safety tip with most of the spiritual world: if you ignore it, it has less power. This does not work with demons or other demi-beings. Other exceptions to the rule are vampires, zombies, ghouls, lycanthropes, witches...Oh, hell, ignoring only works for ghosts.

I felt like shit, but it was happy shit.

He'd kill you all right. No sweat. But for the wrong reasons. Amateur's reasons. Of course, you'll be just as dead.

Who hit you?" "Why, so you can go beat him up?" "One of the fringe benefits of being my human servant is my protection." "I don't need your protection, Jean-Claude." "He hurt you." "And I shoved a gun into his groin and made him tell me everything he knew," I said.

I decided not to answer on the grounds that I might piss someone off.

My right hand was sort of casually near my gun, without looking like I was reaching for my gun. It wasn't easy. Reaching for a gun usually looks like reaching for a gun. No one seemed to notice though. Goody for our side.

I wasn't crying, my eyes were running. My eyes were running because there were pieces of zombies all over my toys. Jesus.

Great." I didn't say thank you, because it seemed wrong. I wanted to call her a bitch and shoot her between the eyes, but then I would have had to shoot Enzo, too. And how would I explain that to the police? She was breaking no laws. Dammit.

I wanted to say something brilliant. My God, Holmes, how did you know the zombie was hiding in the flower pot? But I couldn't lie.

My purse, like all purses, seems to have a traveling black hole in it.

I didn't want to understand. Bert had been thrilled that the police wanted to put me on retainer. He told me I would gain valuable experience working with the police. All I had gained so far was a wider variety of nightmares.

a pink taffeta evening gown. It looked like it had run away from a junior high prom... The dress looked like a petunia on steroids to me.

Most of the time you're ass deep in alligators.

A lovable, cuddly bear. i didn't need a teddy bear for backup.

People say I’m a feminist, but in truth, I am an equalist. I believe that everyone, male and female, should be free to be whom and what they are. Not to fit into some tight cultural box.

The tears were back, stinging just behind my eyes. There was blood all over my penguins. I didn't give a damn about the walls and carpet. They could be replaced, but I'd collected those damned stuffed toys over years.

Put some make-up on me and I look not unlike a china doll. Put me in a puffy pink dress and I look delicate, dainty, petite. Dammit.

I am an animator. I am the Executioner. But now I know I’m something else. The one thing my Grandmother Flores feared most. I am a necromancer. The dead are my specialty.

I hesitated on getting my backup gun and putting it in my purse, but didn't. My purse, like all purses, seems to have a travelling black hole in it. I'd never get the gun out in time if I really needed it.

stupidity isn’t punishable by death. If it was, there would be a hell of a population drop.

What do you do with a master vampire that won't leave you alone? Good question. Unfortunately, what I needed was a good answer.

There will always be victims, Anita. Predators and prey, it is the way of the world.

You really shouldn't lean against a wall and try to look tough unless you can cross your arms. Ruins the effect.