[the car] backfired a lot. Loud enough that when I drove in the wrong part of town and it let loose with a gas fart, people actually ducked for cover.

They want to talk to you tomorrow.”
“Tomo…” Chase choked on the word. “As in the day after today?”
“Is there any other kind?

Nobody should have to put their boxers in a half rotted chest of drawers.”
“Hey. I’ll have you know that the rustic look is very popular in the burbs.”
“Rustic?” Chase snorted. “Is that your way of saying termite infested?”
“This furniture does not have termites. Mice maybe, even moths, but not termites.”
“Great, I can look forward to having a swiss cheese wardrobe.

Kale's usually picky about who drives his car, 'he says, smiling again. 'But in this case, I don't think he would mind'
'Well, technically, it's no longer his car, I point out.
He tilts his head slightly. 'Touché.

Mrs. Winalski owned a candy-apple-red 1965 Mustang GT convertible, and she drove it like she could die at any minute and needed to get five things done before that happened.

If you're going to tell people the truth, be funny or they'll kill you.