Well, they never know they're ill, do they? You can't diagnose yourself with the same organ that has the disease, just like you can't see your own eyeball. So, I suppose you just feel normal and the rest of the world seems to go crazy around you.

The grille of the Caddie plunged right into the middle of the bonfire, scattering smoke and flames and bones to the wind. The Cadillac finally bounced and jolted to a stop among a rain of burning human skulls.The voice of John Fogerty garbled and died. The driver's door opened and John flung himself out, clutching a sawed-off shotgun. He screamed, 'DID SOMEBODY ORDER SOME FUCKING PRISON BREAK WITH A SIDE OF SHOTGUN?

When they write the sequel to the Bible, that shit is definitely gonna be in there.

John trotted up, carrying his satchel. "Yes. Wexler's gone. We need your car.""What? Why?"John circled around to the passenger-side door and said, "Car chase.

John flung himself into a pseudo-karate stance, one hand poised behind him and one in front, posed like a cartoon cactus. I thought for an odd moment he had moved his limbs so fast they had made that whoosh sound through air but then I realized John was making that sound with his mouth.

He whipped the chair around and actually split one of the things in half with the impact, spilling the spray of blood that was reflective, like mercury.John bellowed, "Anyone else want to donate blood to chair-ity?"He ducked into the the door and bashed one monster right in the wig, screaming, "There's some dessert! With a chair-y on top!

One more victim sucked in by John. You get into the room with him and you just fall into a warm pool of beer and video games and penis jokes, staring at the universe with him and saying, "Do you believe this shit?

Fuck all of you," John retorded. "You don't even exist. We're all just a figment of my cock's imagination.

Dave? This is John.""What are you-"Alive?"-in an ambulance or something?""Yes and no. Are you still at the police station?""Yeah. We were both-""Have I died yet?