The Attention Deficit Disorder Thread

Punch it, Chewie.

 

"Cats" is the second worst thing that ever happened to New York City.

 

14 Intel was not a quiet profession.

 

All four of his people appeared to be the very paramilitary types that the security services swore up and down they didn't employ anymore.

 

It's the Government. They never totally destroy anything.

 

Their varied military training had long ago taught them that if you weren't doing anything, and you weren't being shouted at, you slept. You never knew when you'd get the chance again.

 

Some people didn't seem to catch on to the real reason why you were supposed to remain in your assigned seats for takeoff and landing. Either that, or they happily ignored the fact that it was probably the best way to identify bodies after a crash.

 

He's suffered the same sort of wounds as his friend here, except he still has his tongue.

 

And you can forget that at your earliest convenience.

 

Simpson had pointed out to his supervisor that half the passengers that travelled on the Greyhound could be considered `suspicious`.

 

The Master Race liked dark skin about as much as they appreciated the Jews.

 

Michael nodded twice, before he remembered he was on the phone.

 

Frankie wasn't anything much at all, apart from a 'screwup', if you listened to his father, and a 'drug addict' if you listened to his parole officer.

 

Frankie had remained clean for exactly one hour and seventeen minutes after he'd left the rehab clinic. A personal best.

 

Michael shot Andrew with an outstretched finger, and he collapsed onto the bonnet. Barry watched his friend jump back from the very hot surface with a yelp.

 

"I like the car you guys picked out," Marie said, exaggeratedly laying her sleeved arms onto the roof of the four-wheel drive, perching atop the open window. Andrew shot her a glare. Michael didn't notice; he couldn't help but look at Marie's legs. She had decided to wear shorts.

 

He glanced quickly around him, an action that just screamed suspicious.

 

Sunbeam, get the fuck out of Dodge.

 

Her Majesties loyal slave, but please don’t call me `sir`.

 

He did the long-range recon, the three weeks-up-a-tree work.