Discretion is the better part of not getting exsanguinated.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: paraphrased discretion harry-dresden valor
Seedy wasn't a fair description for the place, because seeds imply eventual regrowth and renewal.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: humorous harry-dresden
It would require a singularly stupid man to go hang around in narrow tunnels and cramped spaces alongside a threat like that.
"And I, Harry Dresden, am that man," I stated.
Stichwörter: harry-dresden laugh-at-yourself
You're dead, son. Cheer is contraindicated.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: fantasy-fiction
My gast was pretty well flabbered.
Jim ButcherJump into an open grave? What kind of idiot are you?" Butters replied. "I might as well put on a red shirt and volunteer for the away team. There's snow and ice and slippery mud down there. That's like asking for an ironically broken neck.
Jim ButcherThere should be a rule against your own inner monologue throwing around that much sarcasm.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: sarcasm harry-dresden
Epic sex?" I sputtered. "By what standards, precisely, is sex judged to be epic?"
"And tons and tons of mortal simps like you used as pawns." Bob sighed happily, ignoring my question. "There are no words. It was like the Lord of the Rings and All My Children made a baby with the Macho Man Randy Savage and a Whac-A-Mole machine.
Stichwörter: sex harry-dresden bob-the-skull
So we get a plan," I said. "Any suggestions?"
"Blow up the building," Kincaid said without looking up. "That works good for vampires. Then soak what's left in gasoline. Set it on fire. Then blow it all up again."
"For future reference, I was sort of hoping for a suggestion that didn't sound like it came from that Bolshevik Muppet with all the dynamite.
Stichwörter: humor vampires harry-dresden
Screw up my life?" He stared at me for a second and then said, deadpan, "I'm a five-foot-three, thirty-seven-year-old, single, Jewish medical examiner who needs to pick up his lederhosen from the dry cleaners so that he can play in a one-man polka band at Oktoberfest tomorrow." He pushed up his glasses with his forefinger, folded his arms, and said, "Do your worst.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: humor harry-dresden
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