To infinity then. (Bubba) What’s that mean? (Nick) It’s something my dad used to say when I was a kid. To infinity, meaning you’d see something through to the end. (Bubba) Infinity is never-ending. (Nick) That’s right, which means you keep going and going no matter what happens or what obstacles you meet. Over, under, around or through. There’s always a way. And if you have to chase something to infinity, strap on your big-boy pants, hiking boots, and go. (Bubba)

The Simi gots some barbecue sauce in her bag. It kind of looks like blood if you squint at it the right way. And it don’t coagulate between your teeth like blood or give you them funky burps, not to mention it tastes a lot better too. Especially over that type A stuff. Bleh! I’d rather eat my shoes. But that O-flavored blood…yum! (She straightened and held one finger up in a gesture that strangely reminded him of Smokey the Bear.) And just remember, kids, three out of four demons all prefer barbecue sauce over hemoglobin. (Simi)

I still wanna know who to sue to get my store fixed. (Bubba) I’m a turnip. Sue the rich kid who started it. (Nick)

I don’t know who has it, but apparently other people have been playing it which is why we have zombies cropping up all over the place. (Madaug) Yeah, two and three at a time, ‘cause God forbid kids should do what we did back in the old days and play in a room by ourselves. What kind of geeks are they raising nowadays? Geeks with friends who play video games together. Whoever heard of such? It’s the end of days, I’m telling you all. (Bubba)

For the record, kid, Summoning a demon to kidnap her, not the best way to meet a woman. It usually backfires on you.

You’re really not right, are you? Yeah, I know. It was all the paint chips I ate as a kid. They were good, but chromosomally damaging. (Nick)

Even if he doesn’t eat, he knows the cookies. I’ll bet his mother stuffed him full as a kid. (Tory) Not really. My mom wasn’t the Betty Crocker kind. (Acheron) (Not unless it involved napalm or plagues.)

And you plan to do this alone? You think a lot of yourself, don’t you animal? (Stone) Oh, punk, please. Believe me, when dealing with wusses like you who have to gang up on a kid to feel powerful, I don’t need any help. (Fang)

But this…this kid wasn’t dead yet. Makes no sense to me. (Bubba) Maybe someone spiked his Wheaties? (Nick)