Define better with that guy. Not all fangs and raaaaar.
Maybe I should, I don't know leave? Because this is starting to sound like one of those reality shows I don't want to be in. Maybe you guys want to take turns in the confessional booth.
I liked you better when you were this timid little kid. What happened?” “I started living with you guys.” “Oh, right.
You couldn't be romantic if your life depended on it." "You know what's lucky? Most bad guys don't ask you to be romantic on command, so that probably won't matter.
That's it? That's your big goodbye?" Eve asked. Claire looked at Eve mystified. "I think I need guy CliffNotes." "Guys aren't deep enough to need CliffNotes." "What were you waiting for, flowery poetry?" Shane snorted. "I hugged. I'm done.
You can’t be serious,” Eve said. “Guys. People get eaten in places like this. At the very least, we get locked in a room and terrible, evil things get done to us and put on the Internet. I’ve seen the movies.” "Eve,” Michael said. “Horror movies are not documentaries.
Marriage is a big word for all guys,” Shane said. “You know that. It’s kind of an allergy. We get itchy and sweaty just trying to spell it, much less do it.
You know," Shane said twenty minutes later, "I'd feel a whole lot better about the two of us if you didn't think I was the go-to guy for breaking and entering.
She can go with us to the lab and keep Myrnin pinned down while we pull the plug, if he's not... you know, better." "Define BETTER with that guy." "Not all fangs and raaaaar.
Damn, Claire. Warn a guy before you do a face-plant on the floor next time. I could have looked all heroic and caught you or something -Shane