Al's Voice Was Faint But Resolute. "stand

The Small Gargoyle Had Gone Entirely White To Match The Ceiling, And Only The Rims Of His Ears, His Long Clawlike Nails, And A Thick Stripe Down His Whip-like Tail Were Still Gray. He Was Crawling Along The Ceiling Like A Bat, Wings Held To Make Sharp Angles And Claws Extended. It Just About Broke My Creepy Meter.

Shot Me Twice. I Want My Name, Or I'm Going To Start Charging You A Fee Every Time I Field Something For You. And It's Going To Be Expensive. I'm Park Place. Bud-dy." His Red, Goat-slitted Eyes Squinted At Me From Over His Smoked Glasses. "you're More Like Oriental Avenue Right Now, Dove. What Are You On?

Find Eloy. Smack His Head Into A Wall, Dance On His Guts... I'd Get Creative. Spontaneous Like.

I Do So Like All-encompassing Words. Verb, Adjective, Noun. Yes, You Are Shitted.

Trent And Ellasbeth Did The Nasty? Ewwww!