Serving bacon with sweet things. No more bacon-honey-maple-cinnamon whatever. I have spoken.

Or a mail order bride… on the instalment plan.

Science: “How do you keep getting in here?”

God would sigh and hand your file to Satan.

You make it sound like this is your first experience with human beings.

And heartless people have hearts. So?

The voices. The voices in the walls. They make me do things.

Makes me picture America lying comatose in a hospital bed with Canada hooked up to its arm like an IV bag.

The question mark specifically turns it into passive-aggressive political whinging.

Freedom from hayfever.