That's the worst part about the walking dead... the stains.
Jim ButcherThomas looked like someone's painting of the forgotten Greek god of body cologne. He had long hair so dark that light itself could not escape it, and even fresh from the shower it was starting to curl. His eyes were the color of thunderclouds, and he never did a single moment of exercise to earn the gratuitous amount of ripple in his musculature. He was wearing jeans and no shirt--his standard household uniform. I once saw him answer the door to speak to a female missionary in the same outfit, and she'd assaulted him in a cloud of forgotten copies of The Watchtower. The tooth marks she left had been interesting.
Jim ButcherMy wallet was getting even more anorexic than usual. At this rate I wouldn't be able to afford to protect mankind from the perils of black magic. Hells bells, that would be really embarrassing.
Jim ButcherI can disintegrate a virgin's inhibitions at fifty paces, but I can't last two weeks at a job where I'm wearing a stupid hairnet and a paper hat.
Jim ButcherYou're mad," the fallen angel said.
"Get me some Alka Seltzer and I'll foam at the mouth, too.
Murphy, you rock! Go team Dresden!"
"Hey, I'm the one who rocks... Go team Murphy.
I kicked the door open, staff held ready to fight, and shouted, "And I'm all outta bubble gum!
Jim ButcherMy stomach rumbled. Like certain other portions of my anatomy, it had a tendency to become easily sidetracked, and to hell with little details like survival.
Jim Butcher...the Stone Table [was] a place that served as the OK Corral for the Faerie Courts when they decided to engage in diplomacy by means of murdering anyone on the other team.
Jim ButcherHow long have you been a Sidhe-sicle?
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