Is That Clear?" Said Borcht

I Muttered A Swear Word To Myself. After I Heard Angel Cussing Like A Sailor When She Stubbed Her Toe, My New Resolution Was To Watch My Language. All I Needed Was A Six-year-old Mutant With A Potty Mouth

The Trick To Having Obedient, Unquestioning Children Was To Have Death Be The Other Option

Unfortunately, Every Time Someone Said “debriefing,” The Entire Flock Had One Image: Someone’s Tighty-whities Disappearing In A Flash. We Were Smothering Our Giggles, But It Was Getting Harder. Coupled With The Whole “naval This, And Naval That,” With Its Undeniable Belly-button Connotations, We Were Essentially Turning Into A Sugar-jacked, Sleep-deprived Flock Of Incoherent, Silly, Recombinant-dna Goofballs. This Was Not Going To End Well.

Ultimately, A Great Thriller Is A Roller Coaster Ride. I Like To Think That's A Promise I Have Never Failed To Keep, And One That I'd Say Has Served My Books Well.

A Friend Of Mine Once Defined Love As Finding Someone You Can Talk To Late Into The Night