Wow Yell Quotes

Amber, you could never embarrass me." "Never?" she asked. "Never." "One time, I yelled across the store to Mom and asked her if she wanted the regular or the super-absorbent tampons. I added that, according to the box, the super-absorbent were for those heavy days. Then I asked her to rate her heaviness on a scale of one to ten." "Okay, you could." "Then while we were standing in line, I asked her why she was buying three boxes of Summer's Eve in the middle of winter." I set her at arm's length. "Wow." "I know, right? I had no idea a person could turn so red.

I felt the fangs against my neck and knew I was going to die. It was horrible. I wanted to live so, so badly...but this was how it would end. With my last moments, I started to yell at Christian to run, but then the Strigoi above my suddenly lit up like a torch. He jerked back, and I rolled out from underneath him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I turned to Christian, who was crouched on the ground. "Wow," I said, helping him up. Obviously, he was the one who had saved me. "No shit," he said. "Didn't know I had that much power.

You’re too good for me.” He laughed. “Are we talking about the same person? The selfish fucker who curses and yells, blows up cars and beats up people, because he has a temper he can’t control? You know, the one who drinks like a fish and fries his brain with drugs? That person is too good for you?” She shook her head. “I’m talking about the boy who shared his chocolate bar with me when he probably never shared anything before, who gave me his mama’s favourite book, because he thought I deserved to read. The one who seems to be constantly fixing me up when I get hurt. I’m talking about the boy who treats me like I’m a regular girl, the one who desperately needs his bedroom cleaned and laundry washed but chooses to live in a mess and wear dirty clothes, because he’s too polite to ask the girl he kisses for help.” “Wow,” Carmine said. “I’d like to meet that motherfucker.

I’m going to destroy you, little man!" Sourcefield yelled after me. "I’ll rip you apart like a piece of tissue paper in a hurricane!" "Wow," I said, reaching an intersection and taking cover by an old mailbox. "What?" Tia asked. "That was a really good metaphor.

Love conquers all," Aphrodite promised. “Wow," Thalia muttered. “Ever had a flying burrito hit you?" Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. “In a way, it's nice to know that there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. “God alert!" Blackjack yelled.

Then a man onstage quoted Sam Houston, saying, “Texas can make it without the United States, BUT THE UNITED STATES CANNOT MAKE IT WITHOUT TEXAS!” and everyone in the entire fucking audience yelled it along with him, and I thought, “Wow. It’s really no wonder that the rest of America hates us.

And then I remembered something. Holy crap, I’d obviously been without magic for way too long to have forgotten one of the coolest spells I could do. “Stop!” I yelled.. Archer, Cal, and Jenna all skidded to a halt on the sand. I waved my hands at them to come closer. “Okay, everybody hold hands,” I said. Archer stared at me, one hand pressed to his bleeding chest. “Sophie, this really isn’t the time for a friendship circle.” “It’s not that,” I said. “It’s this.” I closed my eyes and channeled all my magic into a transportation spell. There was a rush of icy air, and then we were standing in the grove of trees that housed Hex Hall’s very own Itineris. “Wow,” Jenna breathed. “It is awesome to have you back.” Magic and satisfaction rushed through me. “You said it,” I agreed. “Now come on.” And with that, the four of us dove into the Itineris.

My dad’s cleaning!” Kelly announced. “What do you think?” “Wow,” said George. That seemed to cover the extent of the damage. “Got to mess it up before you can fix it up,” Kelly’s dad yelled over the music.

I’ve never skydived, bungee-jumped, or parasailed. As I remove the headset, I try to calculate the fall and can’t. Maybe my brain is protecting me from myself and what I’m about to do. I’m not sure of the exact numbers, but I’ve heard hitting the water from such-and-such height feels like hitting concrete at such-and-such miles per hour. In other words, it’s a bone-shattering experience. I seriously doubt those calculations are based on the Syrena bone structure though. In fact, I’m counting on it. “No lower, okay?” Dan says, looking out his window to the water below. “Oh, you see sharks! Wow, it looks like a feeding frenzy down there. Hey, don’t touch that!” I grip the handle harder, but the door won’t budge. Leaning back, I get in the mule-kick position. “Emma, don’t!” Toraf yells. “Those are sharks, Emma!” I take a deep breath. “Wait until I have them under control before you jump.” A joint effort from two half-Syrena legs sends the door flying to a watery grave. “They want proof?” I grumble to myself as I lean into the wind, “I’ll show them proof.” Right before I hit the water, I can still hear Toraf screaming.

My recommendation is to keep up the good work. I’m changing your title to senior executive assistant, and giving you a three percent raise effective next payday. Congratulations.” Wow, three percent. I could move up that early retirement plan to age seventy-five now, instead of eighty. Lucky me. Thank you,” I said. “That’s very generous.” You’re quite welcome.” Ms. Saunders nodded and grabbed a gold-plated letter opener to begin attacking her stack of mail. I turned to leave. Didn’t want to outstay my welcome. Damn it!” she exclaimed, and I turned back around. She winced and nodded at the letter opener that she’d dropped to her desktop. “Damn thing slipped. I’m probably going to need stitches now. Can you be a dear and fetch the first-aid kit for me?” She held her left index finger and frowned at the steady flow of blood oozing out. A few small drops of red splashed onto the other letters spread out on the desk. I felt woozy. And suddenly dizzy. I blinked. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer standing by the door about to leave. I was crouched down next to Ms. Saunders’s imported black leather chair, grasping her wrist tightly…… and sucking noisily on her fingertip. I shrieked and let go of her, staggering backward. I grabbed at her desk to keep from falling, but I dropped on my butt, anyhow, taking most of the contents of the top of her desk with me. She held her injured finger far away from her and stared at me, wide-eyed, with a mixture of shock and disgust. I scrambled to my feet and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. What in the holy hell just happened? I… I… uh… I’m so sorry,” I managed. “I don’t know what… I wouldn’t normally do something… I just…” Ms. Saunders pulled her hand close to her chest, perhaps to protect it from further abuse. Get out,” she said quietly. Yeah, I’ll get back to work. Again, I’m so, so sorry. Would you like me to bring you a cup of coffee?” No, not to your desk,” she said evenly, but her volume increased with every word. “Get out of here, you freak. I don’t care what you’ve heard, I’m not into women. You’re fired. Now get out of here before I call security.” But… my job review—” Get out!” she yelled.

It’s true I’ve got a cold streak. I recognize that. But if they—my father and mother—had loved me a little more, I would have been able to feel more—to feel real sadness, for example.” “Do you think you weren’t loved enough?” She tilted her head and looked at me. Then she gave a sharp, little nod. “Somewhere between ‘not enough’ and ‘not at all.’ I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it—to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once. But they never gave that to me. Never, not once. If I tried to cuddle up and beg for something, they’d just shove me away and yell at me. ‘No! That costs too much!’ It’s all I ever heard. So I made up my mind I was going to find someone who would love me unconditionally three hundred and sixty-five days a year. I was still in elementary school at the time—fifth or sixth grade—but I made up my mind once and for all.” “Wow,” I said. “And did your search pay off?” “That’s the hard part,” said Midori. She watched the rising smoke for a while, thinking. “I guess I’ve been waiting so long I’m looking for perfection. That makes it tough.” “Waiting for the perfect love?” “No, even I know better than that. I’m looking for selfishness. Perfect selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortcake. And you stop everything you’re doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortcake out to me. And I say I don’t want it anymore and throw it out the window. That’s what I’m looking for.” “I’m not sure that has anything to do with love,” I said with some amazement. “It does,” she said. “You just don’t know it. There are times in a girl’s life when things like that are incredibly important.” “Things like throwing strawberry shortcake out the window?” “Exactly. And when I do it, I want the man to apologize to me. ‘Now I see, Midori. What a fool I’ve been! I should have known that you would lose your desire for strawberry shortcake. I have all the intelligence and sensitivity of a piece of donkey shit. To make it up to you, I’ll go out and buy you something else. What would you like? Chocolate mousse? Cheesecake?’” “So then what?” “So then I’d give him all the love he deserves for what he’s done.” “Sounds crazy to me.” “Well, to me, that’s what love is. Not that anyone can understand me, though.” Midori gave her head a little shake against my shoulder. “For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesn’t begin at all.” “I’ve never met a girl who thinks like you.

when we say, “Be careful!” to our child, we’re not giving the message that we care, even though that’s what we feel. We’re giving the message that the world is an unsafe place and we don’t have confidence in our child to navigate it. Could you say, instead, “Have fun!”? Could you just move closer to the climbing gym to spot him and say, “Wow, I see you climbing so high!”?

Gwen said, “Wow.” Martin swelled a bit with pride. Gwen continued. “Those wolves seemed really easy to kill.” Martin deflated. “Well, maybe I made it look easy.” “Maybe,” Roy said. “It could be we were dazzled by your battle cry, ‘ai-yi-yi.’ ” “I did not yell ‘ai-yi-yi,’ did I?” Martin asked. Roy said, “You did, but I’m not surprised you didn’t notice it, what with you being in a berserker rage and all.

It takes some getting used to,' Mr. Forkle said. 'But what you're seeing is a visual representation of each other's moods.' 'So that means if I do this...' Keefe tickled Sophie's neck. 'GAH--everything just went supersonic!' Fitz said. Sophie snatched Keefe's wrist as he reached to tickle her again. 'Don't. You. Dare.' 'Whoa, now everything's red and ripply,' Fitz said. 'Is that because she's angry?' 'Precisely, Mr. Vacker. Every time her emotions shift, the patterns and colors will change. And with practice, you'll learn to interpret what you see.' 'Okay, but...can't they just say, "Hey, I'm feeling this?"' Keefe asked. 'People aren't always honest about their feelings--even with themselves,' Mr. Forkle told him. 'Plus, many telepathic missions involve stealth and secrecy. So for this exercise I'm going to need both of you to forget everything around you. Let the world drop away, leaving only you two.' Keefe sighed. 'Just tell them to stare into each other's eyes and they'll be good.' 'None of that, Mr. Sencen. From this moment on, you have one job and one job only: to judge their translations of the various emotions I'll be triggering.' 'Triggering how?' Sophie asked. 'You'll see soon enough. And you'll go first, Miss Foster. For this to work, Mr. Vacker, it's crucial that you not react externally. No yelling or thrashing or screaming or--' 'Uhhh, what are you going to do to me?' Fitz asked. 'Nothing you won't survive. Consider it an exercise in self-control. And try not to listen to his thoughts, Miss Foster. Study only the changes in his emotional center and make your deduction. We begin now.' Sophie closed her eyes and focus on the colors weaving around Fitz's mind. She was about to ask if she was missing something when the pattern exploded into a swirl of pale blue tendrils. The color felt to bright to be sad, but also too wild to be peaceful. 'Tension?' she guessed. 'Kinda close,' Keefe told her. The laughter in his voice made her wonder what had happened to poor Fitz. She tried to think of other emotions as his mind turned electric blue. 'Shock?' she guessed. 'That counts,' Keefe said. 'Though the best answer would've been "surprise."' 'Is that an emotion?' she asked. 'Indeed it is,' Mr. Forkle said. 'One of the most common emotions you'll experience as you navigate someone's mind--hence why I chose it as our starting point.' 'Can I talk now?' Fitz asked. 'Because that was seriously disgusting!' Sophie opened her eyes and tried not to laugh when she saw red fruit smashed all over Fitz's face. He wiped his cheeks on his sleeves, but that only smeared the pulp. 'I think I'm going to like this assignment,' Keefe said. 'What else can we fling at Fitz?' 'Nothing for the moment,' Mr. Forkle told him. 'It's his turn to interpret. Everyone close your eyes. And remember, no cues of any kind, Miss Foster.' Sophie counted the seconds, bracing for the worst--and when nothing chaned, she opened her eyes and found Mr. Forkle with his finger over his lips in a 'shhh' sign. 'Um...confusion,' Fitz guessed. 'That works,' Keefe said. 'It started as anticipation, but then it shifted.' 'Very good,' Mr. Forkle said. 'And well done, Mr. Sencen. I wasn't sure you'd recognize confusion. It's one of the more challenging emotions for Empaths.' 'Maybe on other people,' Keefe said. 'But on Foster it's easy. Why are her emotions so much stronger?' 'Honestly, I'm not sure,' Mr. Forkle admitted. 'I suspect it stems from the combination of her inflicting ability and her human upbringing. But it was one of the surprises of her development. Much like her teleporting. Okay, Miss Foster, it's your turn to guess again.' She closed her eyes and watched as the lines of color in Fitz's mind blossomed to a snowflake of purple. 'Pride?' she guessed. Keefe laughed. 'Wow, add more fail points to Sophitz.' 'Quiet,' Mr. Forkle told him.

Syn pulled his boxers on and quietly left the bedroom, walking angrily to the kitchen. He turned the corner and wanted to throw a shit-fit at the sight before him. Day was standing at his stove loading some type of egg dish onto a plate before turning and setting it in front of God. God folded down one side of his newspaper, peering at Syn from behind it. “Well good morning, sunshine,” Day said way too cheerily for five-fucking-a.m. “We brought breakfast.” Syn clenched his jaw, trying not to yell at his superior officers. “Have you two lost your fuckin’ minds? Come on. It’s, it’s ... early.” Syn turned his wrist, forgetting he didn’t have his watch on yet. “Damn, you guys are always at the office, or at a crime scene, or over fucking here at god-awful hours.” “Oh, it’s early?” Day said disbelievingly. God shrugged like he hadn’t realized either. “Seriously. When the fuck do you guys sleep?” “Never,” God said nonchalantly. “When do you fuck?” Syn snapped. “Always,” Day quipped. “Just did thirty minutes ago. Nice couch by the way, real comfy, sorry for the stain.” Syn tiredly flipped Day off. “Don’t be pissed,” Day sing-songed. “A dab of Shout will get that right out.” Syn rubbed angrily at his tired eyes, growling, “Day.” “He’s not in a joking mood, sweetheart,” God said from behind his paper. “You know we didn’t fuck on your couch so calm the hell down. Damn you’re moody in the morning. Unless ... We weren’t interrupting anything, were we? So, how’s porn boy?” God’s gruff voice filled the kitchen, making Syn cringe. “First of all. Don’t fucking call him that, ever, and damnit God. Lower your voice. Shit. He’s still asleep,” Syn berated his Lieutenant, who didn’t look the slightest bit fazed by Syn’s irritation. “You guys could let him sleep, he’s had a rough night, ya know.” Day leaned his chest against God’s large back, draping his arms over his shoulders. “Oh damn, what kind of friends are we? It was rough, huh?” Day looked apologetic. “Yes, it was, Day. He just–” “Try water-based lube next time,” Day interrupted, causing God to choke on his eggs. “Day, fuck.” Syn tried not to grin, but when he thought about it, it really was funny. “I knew I’d get you to smile. Have some breakfast Sarge, we gotta go question the crazy chicks. You know how much people feel like sharing when they’ve spent a night in jail.” “Damn. Alright, just let me–” “Wow. Something smells great.” Furi’s deep voice reached them from down the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. “You cook babe? Who knew? I’ll have the Gladiator portion.” Furi used his best Roman accent as he sauntered into the kitchen with his hands on hips and his head high. Syn turned just as Furi noticed God and Day. “Oh, fuck, shit, Jesus Christ!” Furi stumbled, his eyes darting wildly between all of them. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” Furi looked at Syn trying to gauge exactly how much he’d fucked up just now. Syn smiled at him and Furi immediately lost the horrified expression. Syn held his hand out and mouthed to him 'it's okay.

She clicks on the last slide, and that’s when it happens. “Me So Horny” blasts out of the speakers and my video, mine and Peter’s, flashes on the projector screen. Someone has taken the video from Anonybitch’s Instagram and put their own soundtrack to it. They’ve edited it too, so I bop up and down on Peter’s lap at triple speed to the beat. Oh no no no no. Please, no. Everything happens at once. People are shrieking and laughing and pointing and going “Oooh!” Mr. Vasquez is jumping up to unplug the projector, and then Peter’s running onstage, grabbing the microphone out of a stunned Reena’s hand. “Whoever did that is a piece of garbage. And not that it’s anybody’s fucking business, but Lara Jean and I did not have sex in the hot tub.” My ears are ringing, and people are twisting around in their seats to look at me and then shifting back around to look at Peter. “All we did was kiss, so fuck off!” Mr. Vasquez, the junior class advisor, is trying to grab the mic back from Peter, but Peter manages to maintain control of it. He holds the mic up high and yells out, “I’m gonna find whoever did this and kick their ass!” In the scuffle, he drops the mic. People are cheering and laughing. Peter’s being frog-marched off the stage, and he frantically looks out into the audience. He’s looking for me. The assembly breaks up then, and everyone starts filing out the doors, but I stay low in my seat. Chris comes and finds me, face alight. She grabs me by the shoulders. “Ummm, that was crazy! He freaking dropped the F bomb twice!” I am still in a state of shock, maybe. A video of me and Peter hot and heavy was just on the projector screen, and everyone saw Mr. Vasquez, seventy-year-old Mr. Glebe who doesn’t even know what Instagram is. The only passionate kiss of my life and everybody saw. Chris shakes my shoulders. “Lara Jean! Are you okay?” I nod mutely, and she releases me. “He’s kicking whoever did it’s ass? I’d love to see that!” She snorts and throws her head back like a wild pony. “I mean, the boy’s an idiot if he thinks for one second it wasn’t Gen who posted that video. Like, wow, those are some serious blinders, y’know?” Chris stops short and examines my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Everybody saw us.” “Yeah…that sucked. I’m sure that was Gen’s handiwork. She must’ve gotten one of her little minions to sneak it onto Reena’s PowerPoint.” Chris shakes her head in disgust. “She’s such a bitch. I’m glad Peter set the record straight, though. Like, I hate to give him credit, but that was an act of chivalry. No guy has ever set the record straight for me.

them.” “Well, since we’re waiting on a fresh warlock, you have time then, right?” “I mean, yeah, I guess so, but—” “That’s alright, I won’t force you to go. I know you have a lot on your mind, but just consider it, okay?” I nodded. “Yes, sir.” We cleaned up the field some more. After a while, I asked, “Hey, where’s Lukester and Cindy? I don’t see them anywhere.” “If they are not here, then they must be at the hospital helping the wounded,” said Adrian. “Okay, I think I’ll head over there, then.” “Sure, Steve. Adrian and I will continue cleaning up here,” said the mayor. Adrian turned to look at the mayor. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. “Alright, see you guys later.” I turned and walked away. Adrian and the mayor waved at me, then they continued picking up weapons. As I walked away, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to ask the mayor something about the mining operation. So, I busted a U-turn and walked toward the mayor. Adrian and the mayor were both busily working and had their backs facing me. “I don’t want him spiraling into depression over the Bob and horse thing, so make sure you keep him busy,” I overheard the mayor say. “Yes, sir,” replied Adrian. “There was a time when he fell into depression and he just lay in bed for days. I don’t want the same thing happening again.” Adrian nodded. “I’ll have plenty for him to do in the coming days, and with the party coming up, I plan to have all sorts of activities to distract him.” “Yes, sir.” “Good, please help me clean up for another five minutes, then go join Steve.” “As you wish.” They were clearly talking about me, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. So, I quietly spun 180 degrees and made my way to the hospital. As I walked, I thought, Wow… the mayor is really concerned about my state of mind. I had no idea… I reached the hospital and found a bunch of patient-filled beds outside. The place was completely packed, so packed that they had to treat patients outdoors. Cindy caught my eye as she frantically ran about from patient to patient. “Cindy!” I yelled. She gasped and turned around. “Steve, shhh…” she whispered. “Some of the patients are sleeping. “Oh, sorry…” She walked over to me. “How are you? Feeling good? Any injuries?” “Hm… now that you mentioned it, I’m surprised that I don’t have any injuries.”  Cindy beamed a huge smile. “I had a splash potion of regeneration in my personal chest at home. I used it on you while you slept.” “You did? No wonder.” “That was my last one. I was saving it for a special situation, and I guess saving a friend from pain is a pretty good reason to use it.” “Aw… thank you so much, Cindy.” “You’re welcome, Steve. So, are you here to help today?” “Help?” “Yeah, help with the wounded?” “Uh, um, sure. Yeah, I can help, but actually, I wanted to speak with you about something.” “Oh? What’s up?” “Well…” I explained to Cindy about what happened. “Oh, no… so she wouldn’t change Paul right away?” asked the potioneer. I shook my head. “I begged her, but she absolutely refused.” “Aw…” “So, I was wondering if you could give it a try?” “You want me to ask her to change Paul into a warlock?” “Yeah, could you do that for me? As a favor?” “Well, of course I’d be willing to, but what about Paul? Is he okay with this plan?” Cindy asked. “I think Paul will be way easier to convince once Wanda is on board.” Cindy nodded. “You’re right. Okay, my shift here doesn’t end for another few hours. I’ll head over to Wanda’s afterward.” “Yass!

shhh me!” Harper said, and then she yelled, “Oh, are you afraid your girlfriend Alison might hear us?” “Omg…” Dante, completely embarrassed, walked off quickly by himself. “Heeeeey! Where are you going in a such a hurry?” Harper yelled after PigMaster. “Did he find the taco carriage?” I said as I perked up. “No, I don’t think so, but come on, we have to go after him.” “Tsk… where is that darn thing?” I said. We followed after Dante and rounded a corner. Right when we turned the corner, we ran into a huge line in front of a small carriage. “Ah, here it is!” Dante said as he turned around. “How did you find it?” Harper asked. “I used my nose.” “Oh, I thought you went looking for your girlfriend or something.” Dante rolled his eyes. “Mmm… it smells delicious,” I said as I got closer to the carriage. “It tastes even more delicious. Come on, let’s get in line,” said Dante. “But the line… it is soooo long…” “Don’t worry, it moves quickly.” “Alright…” I said reluctantly. So, the three of us got in line, and Dante told me about the new gladiator. “Aaron the warrior upgraded to a gladiator,” said Dante. “Oh, wow, cool,” I said. “And you don’t remember the others, huh?” “Nope, there were too many to remember.” “Hm… I may need to visit all the captains to get an update on the other new upgrades, then.” “Are you trying to keep track of all of our tier 1s?” asked Harper. “Yeah, it’s good information to know.” We waited in line for about ten minutes until we reached the front. “I’ll order for us, okay?” said Dante. “Sure, since you’ve been here before, you probably know what’s good,” I said. PigMaster nodded and placed his order. “Hi, can I please get five chicken tacos, three beef super tacos, one beef burrito, two chicken super burritos, and one order of nachos?” “Holy moly! Are you trying to feed the whole city, Dante?” said Harper. Dante laughed. “Wait till you try it. Then you’ll understand.

tailored clothing that hints at a well-toned but not muscle-bound body. “Wow,” I lean over to yell into Kara’s ear as the sound ratchets back up to normal. “Check out the dude at 7 o’clock! Ain’t he shiny?” “Shiny?” Kara drawls. “Is that from one of your Ancient TēVē vids?” She swivels on her stool and her lips make a shocking pink O of surprise. “You’re right. He is shiny.

the animal poofed and left behind some meat and wool. “Score!” yelled The101greatone. “Wow, that was way easier with three people,” I said. “I told you.” “Hm, now we have to cook it,” said Alex. “We should’ve brought the furnace.” “It’s okay. I’ll craft one in a jiffy,” said The101greatone. Then he started punching the grass block below him.

And this is one I’ll remember forever, from a grandparent: “A few months ago, my daughter asked me to follow you so I could understand how she is parenting her kids. Wow, has this been an education for me. I called my daughter this morning and told her that I wish I could rewind and parent her in this way and that I see now that it must have felt so bad to her when I yelled or saw the worst in her, not the best. She cried. I guess she really needed to hear this. We talked about it for a while. It was one of the most important moments of our relationship.

I read this book once where the girl yelled 'cat' right before they were about to get some bow-chicka-bow-wow,' I told him. 'It was high-larious.

I could hear them yell and laugh each time and there was nothing I could do about it…. I saw them do it, like you’re shooting gophers. I could hear them: ‘Wow, I got one!’ Those guys were murderers.” Such

I’m vine.” Dad looked around. “Wow, Kate, this sure is a seedy part of town,” he said with a sigh. “What? No!” Kate held her hands up in surrender. “I guess last night will always give us pumpkin to talk about.” “Dad, no. Please,” Kate begged. “Boy, those pumpkins sure got… squashed.” He scooted a damaged pumpkin out of the road with his foot. “Do you think we can put any back together… with a patch? A pumpkin patch.” Kate looked around to see if anyone was close enough for Dad to tell jokes to besides herself. She was out of luck. “I guess it makes sense the Jack-o’-lanterns lost the fight. They’re pretty empty-headed.” “Too soon, Dad,” Kate said. “Too soon.” She turned to go. “Wait!” Dad yelled at her. She turned to see what he wanted. “I don’t feel so gourd.” Kate rolled her

Oh wow! There’s a great big Range Rover pulled up outside and a big girl’s getting out!’ Jonnie yelled. ‘I think we might like her after all if she lets us have a ride in her big posh car!

When I'm on stage, my experience often goes something like this: Blankness . . . bliss . . . blankness . . . twinkle of awareness that rocking has been achieved . . . bliss . . . Voice of Observing Ego yelling over amplifiers, WOW! YOU ARE FUCKING KILLING IT DUUUUDE! . . . Clang! Wrong chord.

The group at the dining room table all yelled like their favorite person in the world had just walked in, but he gave them a half smile and lifted a hand in the air as if this was normal. Actually, it seemed like everyone was happy to see him, and not just because of his apparent trivia prowess. Just about each person we passed as we went into the living room smiled and shouted in his direction. As if he were their old buddy back from some short of long trip. I wasn't sure what to make of it. I liked him- wow, I actually did like him- but it was somehow surprising that so many other people did. I would've imagined him being too much of an acquired taste for the general population. Kind of an IYKYK type of guy.

Die, skeletons!” he yelled, cutting the three skeletons down: SWOOSH, SWOOSH, SWOOSH! Then Steve ran back into the courtyard, where the golem was still fighting off skeletons. Steve rejoined the fight, swinging his sword about and cutting down the skeletons. “Keep going, Steve!” Spidroth yelled from the window. “What?” said Steve, turning to look at her. “Did you say something?” Then THUNK! An arrow struck Steve in the side of the head. “Ow…” said Steve. “My brains…” Then POOF, he was gone. “Oh wow, a chicken!” Spidroth turned around to see Spidroth sitting up in bed once more. “I had the strangest dream,” Steve said. “I dreamed I was fighting—” “IT WASN’T A DREAM!” Spidroth shouted. “GET YOUR BUTT OUTSIDE AND START FIGHTING THE SKELETONS!

The file began with the principal muttering what sounded like nonsense. “Stupid hedgehogs!” he yelled. “Stop stealing my flapjacks!” I looked to Zoe, intrigued. “Is this some sort of top secret code?” “No,” Zoe replied. “It’s about the game he’s playing on his phone.” “It’s called Flapjack Frenzy,” Warren explained. “You try to make as many pancakes as possible and these hedgehogs try to steal them. So you have to fight them off by shooting them with maple syrup. . . .” “The rules of the game really aren’t important right now,” Zoe told him. Warren frowned sullenly. On the recording, the principal’s phone rang. He let it ring ten more times while he apparently tried to finish the level of the game, before finally giving in and answering. “This is the principal,” he said curtly. “This had better be important. I’m in the midst of something very serious.” Then he gasped in surprise and asked, “SPYDER? Really? How do you know?” This was followed by a period during which the principal was obviously listening to a lot of information that the person on the other end of the phone line was giving him. For the most part, it seemed he was trying to sound interested, saying things like “Hmmm” and “Fascinating” and “Wow,” although I could also hear the distinct sounds of the game continuing: tinny music punctuated by the occasional squelch of maple syrup and squeal of pixelated hedgehogs. Suddenly, the principal said, “No, I’m not playing a game on my phone! I’m listening to you!” And then the tinny music shut off.

Storytelling in deep canvassing is like Lisa's foot pushing against the subway door, preventing it from closing, slowing down the pace of the interaction o allow for space between people, a moment of humanity. She felt she made progress even when a Trump supporter didn't radically change his or her mind but might have thought, 'Wow, you are a decent person. And you're a Democrat. I was scared to talk to you before. I thought you were going to yell at me.

I wrestled the cake to the ground. It was super strong and kept fighting me and trying to struggle free and bite my face, but I managed to turn it on its side and take a chomp out of it. “Rrrraaaaghhh!!!” yelled the cake. “Get in my belly, you evil pudding!” I yelled, and took another bite, and another, until the cake was nothing but a few crumbs on the ground. “Wow,” said Professor Quigley in astonishment. “You ate it all. Even its arms, legs and teeth.” “I did what I had to do,” I said, lying exhausted on the floor. “Now, I don’t suppose you’ve got any more?

There you go, my friend. Enjoy! I need to go clear some tables, but I’ll be back,” Grant said. “Okay, thank you so much,” I said and started stuffing my face. Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom… “Ooooh… food… I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered. Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom… Thirty minutes later, Grant came back to check up on me. “Holy cow! You finished everything?!” he yelled. Burp! “Excuse me,” I said. “Yeah… I’m so full now…” Grant shook his head. “Wow! That’s unbelievable.” I patted my big o’ belly. “Yeah, gotta get my strength back, ya know?” “And then some.” I chuckled. “Hey, what’s that building over there?” “Oh, that,” he said with a bit of disdain in his voice. “I heard that’s going to be a new restaurant.” “What? Really?” I asked excitedly.

And he ran off. Dave, Porkins and Carl kept going until they reached the big town square, where villagers were running from a horde of zombies. “Look,” said Porkins, “they’re not normal zombies—they’re zombie villagers!” Porkins was right, Dave saw. The zombies chasing the villagers were zombie villagers—and every villager they caught turned into another zombie villager. “Come on,” Carl said, “get your swords out, let’s get this over with.” “We can’t kill them,” Dave said, “they’re villagers!” Dave had no idea what to do. As far as he knew, the only thing that could cure zombie villagers was using the potion of weakness on them and then feeding them a golden apple, but he had neither of those things. Suddenly Dave saw the mayor running across the square, his fat belly wobbling. Chasing him was a fat zombie villager Dave recognized as being the mayor’s son. “Heeeelp!” The mayor yelled. “My son is trying to eat me!” “Wow,” said Carl. “It sure is tough being a parent.

She lands on her feet on the web and draws her sword. “High-ya!” Sara yells! She pulverizes the two spiders near John with one swift thrust of her sword! They were out cold and defeated! Wow! Then she came over to help me. “You all right, Steve?” She says. I nod. “Just a little spider trouble, Sara! Ha ha!” I say. “I’ve got your back, Steve!” Sara says.

his breath and listened. Yes, there it was again – it sounded like voices. “Help! Down here! Help me!” screamed Derek as loud as he could. His cries echoed through the cave. The voices seemed to be getting closer, but it was hard to tell. “Heeeelp!” “Hey, I think it’s coming from over here,” he heard a voice say in the distance. “Wow – where did that hole come from? I’ve never seen that before,” came another voice. “Look, there’s a tunnel!” “Down here! I’m down here!” yelled Derek.

They spend the endless hours reading in their sleeping bags. They read all the books previous sitters left in the hammock lending library. They read Shakespeare, holding the thick volumes across their twinned bellies. They read a play every afternoon, taking all the parts between them. A Midsummer Night's Dream King Lear. Macbeth. They read two fabulous novels, one three years old and the other a hundred and twenty-three. She has trouble, as they near the end of the older story, keeping her voice under control. "You love these people?" The stories have captivated him. He cares about what happens. But she - she's broken. "Love? Wow. Okay. Maybe. But they're all imprisoned in a shoe box, and they have no idea. I just want to shake them and yell, Get out of yourselves, damn it! Look around! But they can't, Nicky. Everything alive is just outside their field of view." Her face crabs up and her eyes go raw again. Crying for the blindness, even of fictional beings.