Adam: "Perhaps you should get a real job and become a useful member of society."Gordon: "Perhaps you should shove a pipe up your ass and die of lead poisoning.

What freaking year were you born in? You can’t be much younger than me. They had all of those shows about Amazon chicks and Greek gods, gladiators. . .”“You watched shows about Amazons and Greek gods.” It was more of a flat statement than a question.“Screw you. Them bitches were fierce.”“You’re a bizarre person.”“Says the guy in the bodysuit.”Mr. Greek’s mouth sunk at the sides. “It’s protective armor.”“Like I fucking said.

Adam: "I guess I struck a nerve."Gordon: "Suck my cock and choke on it.

He was making it obvious that something was wrong—that Adam's presence was throwing him off."Uh, Marquis. We were going to food." Because that was a verb. "I mean, get food.""He's gone.""Yes."Monosyllables. Monosyllables were good.

I'm just doing what I have to do. I don't have a choice.""Yeah, good luck going to bed with a guilt-free conscience with that sorry-ass excuse."The sour expression evaporated from Mr. Greek's face. His gaze switched back to the computer. "Keep talking and I'll gag you.""Blow me.