If you’ve bullshitted me, angel, I’m going to kill you.”
The other male rolled his eyes. “I’m already dead, idiot.

There was a soft chiming sound, which meant, tragedy of tragedies, the angel had just popped himself up onto the countertop. “So, what are we doing tonight? Wait, let me guess, sitting in morose silence. Or, no…you’re mixing it up. Brooding with soulful intensity, right? What a fucking wild child you are. Whoo. Hoo. Next thing you know, you’ll be opening for Slipknot.”
With a curse, Tohr stood up and went over to turn on the shower, hoping that if he refused to look at the loudmouth, Lassiter would get bored more quickly and move on to ruin someone else’s afternoon.

You’re just too mean to find a grave and lie down”-Tohr to Wrath.

Tohr shook his head. "If you're going to get plastered, why can't you do it like areal man."
"I like the taste of fruit."
"You are what you drink."
The angel glanced up at the clock, "Shit. I missed Maury. But, I DVR'd Ellen.

Please, if you would," the butler said, "no throwing the linens. Peaches, anyone?" -Fritz

Phury nodded. "And if she lives with us, we get to keep the cat.