As accurate as a blind man pissing during an earthquake.”
“Wow...,” I breathed.
She frowned at me.
“That was a great metaphor,” I said.
“Oh please.”
“I need to write that down,” I said, ignoring her complaints, fishing for my new mobile to type it out.

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.

The buzzing was like the eager purr of a muscle car that had just been started, but left in neutral. That was another of Cody’s metaphors for it; I’d said the sensation felt like an unbalanced washing machine filled with a hundred epileptic chimpanzees. Pretty proud of that one.

We got there without being spotted. I pulled her in, then shut the door, pressing my back to it and exhaling like an epileptic pilot who'd just landed a cargo plane full of dynamite.

I grunted, hauling the rope hand over hand. A plaintive squeak came from the pulley system with each draw, as if I had strapped some unfortunate mouse to a torture device and was twisting with glee.

Oh,” Obliteration continued, “I think that you’ll find a man can do many things thought impossible, if he tries hard enough.