Leo

“Now came time for Chessler’s world-famous catchphrase. He cleared his throat, spoke the words in a stentorian voice befitting a great statesman or decorated military general: “By golly, I’ll eat this motherfuckin’ fistful of squirming maggots ’cause I just don’t give a heck!”
― Douglas Hackle, The Hottest Gay Man Ever Killed in a Shark Attack

“Though completely irrelevant to the story, seventeen minutes and thirty-two seconds later, every instance of the word “the” that appeared in this chapter transmogrified into a tiny, blue, pineapple-headed bat that flew away to France to start a brand new life even though they all hated France (except for French fries, guillotines, and that place in France where the naked ladies dance). Regarding the latter, apparently there’s a hole in the wall where tiny, blue, pineapple-headed bats can see it all.”
― Douglas Hackle, The Hottest Gay Man Ever Killed in a Shark Attack

“Hello,” he said. “Who is this? . . . Who? You’re breaking up a bit there, pal. I can barely hear you . . . You’re the president of what? . . . Of the Citizen Kane fan club? Well, how about that? . . . You want to what? Sorry, the connection is still bad. You’re breaking up . . . You wish I’d just drop by already? Is that what you said? Well, thank you! That’s awfully nice of you. I will certainly do so as soon as my schedule permits. Unfortunately, I’m kinda busy at the moment, hoss . . . Ah, I can hear you much better now! . . . Eh, you’re not the president of the Citizen Kane fan club? You’re the president of the Citizen Kane is the Worst Movie of All Time fan club? . . . And you don’t wish I’d just drop by already, you wish I’d just die already? . . . Well, fuck you too, mang! I hope you and your whole fucking family get cancer and AIDS and leprosy and anthrax and catch on fire and die! Call this number again, asshole, and I’ll come whoop your ass myself!”
― Douglas Hackle, The Hottest Gay Man Ever Killed in a Shark Attack

“It warms me to see her smile. Warms me like the whiskey in George’s flask. Maybe the world is not so miserable, but it probably is.”
― Max Booth III, The Nightly Disease