Because he has the best equipment in the City and he knows how to use it!

His beard was nonexistent, except for a carefully trimmed goatee that met his mustache on both sides of his mouth.

The overall effect was decidedly villainous. He needed a black horse and a barbarian horde to lead. That or a crew of cutthroats, a ship with blood-red sails, and some knucklehead heroine to lust after.

“Look, I’ve had a bad day. How about you just walk away from my Jeep?”
The volhv smiled wider, flashing even white teeth.

If he started stroking his beard, I’d have to kill him on principle.“He raised his hand to his goatee.
That does it.
“Yeah. And what’s with the beard and the horse mane? You look like Rent-a-Villain.

I would try being friends with her, but she's too busy being a smartass."

"Now you know how the rest of us feel," Jim said.

She crouched with her hand out. What the hell was she doing…
"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."
Oh my God, she was retarded and I was going to kill Jim.

Did he just rip out the engine?" I asked.
"Yes", Saiman said. "And now he is demolishing the Maserati with it."
Ten seconds later Curran hurled the twisted wreck of black and orange that used to be the Maserati into the wall.
The first melodic notes of an old song came from the computer. I glanced at Saiman.
He shrugged. "It begged for a soundtrack.

I ripped my left arm out of his hand and slammed my elbow into his solar plexus. He exhaled in a gasp. I lunged for the dagger and sat on top of him, my knees pinning his arms, my dagger on his throat.
He lay still. “I give up,” he said and smiled. “Your move.”
Er. I was sitting atop the Beast Lord in my underwear, holding a knife to his throat. What the hell was my next move?