“Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?” I asked. She shoved my shoulder. “No.”
Joel N. Ross“Are you . . . lost?” “Not really,” she told him. “We just don’t know where we’re going.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?” I asked. She shoved my shoulder. “No.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“...Loretta threatened to beat him to death with a wooden spoon...”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“We’re alive!” Swedish told her. “I did not see that coming.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“Now you’re listening to Swedish ?” I asked her. “He thinks I’m the Compass because every time I see ticktocks, I happen to be there!”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“You know what to do?” “Wander around,” I said. “Until I spot a self-assembled whangdoodle from the Foggy depths.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“What are you doing?” I asked Loretta. “Stabbing a cushion,” she told me.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“Well, the bad news,” Swedish said from the wheel, “is that Chess still thinks he’s funny.” “What’s the good news?” Loretta asked, leaning on our little copper-tubed harpoon. “That Kodoc dropped a bomb on the city?”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass“Did Cap’n Vidious leave that? He is such a cuddlebunny.” “Yeah,” I said, “that’s exactly how I’d describe him.”
Joel N. Ross, The Lost Compass