And Please God, Grant Me

The Thing About Plummetting Downhill At Fifty Miles An Hour On A Snack Platter - If You Realize It's A Bad Idea When You're Halfway Down, It's Too Late.

Wha-what?" Her Eyes Fluttered Open. "nothing," I Shouted. "we're Being Followed By A Slaying Machine. Go Back To Sleep.

[my Mom's] Funny That Way, Celebrating Special Occasions With Blue Food. I Think It's Her Way Of Saying Anything Is Possible. Percy Can Pass Seventh Grade. Waffles Can Be Blue. Little Miracles Like That.

Amy, Dan, And Nellie Were Sitting At A Table In A Conference Room, Examining Reproductions Of Franklin Documents-some So Rare, The Librarians Told Her, The Only Copies Existed In Paris. "yeah, Here's A Rare Grocery List," Dan Muttered. "wow.

The Pinecone Is A Fearsome Tool Of Destruction! -bacchus