Besides, do you think you would have come if I’d just popped into your tattoo shop one night around closing andsaid, ‘Hello, I’m the Prince of Darkness. Think you could help me outwith a little war ne...
The necromancer is the Blue Fairy to my Pinocchio and I want to be a real boy again.
The case is caked with dirt and rattier looking than Karloff in The Mummy.
The angel makes a sharp turn and shoots back at me. I shout some Hellion hoodoo and it has about as much effect as reading cupcake recipes to a lobster.
The Council is staring at me. I’ve been down here a hundred days and still, anytime I say anything but yes or no, they look at me like I’m a talking giraffe.
The 405 is one breakdown away from turning into the Donner Party.
That’s where you’re wrong. When a tidal wave washes out the luau, you surf it and look for land.
That's it, fuckers. I've saved your dumb asses more than once. Let me choke you a little as I vanish into the sky.
Start talking or we’re going to see if you can dog-paddle through fire. I wonder if fried Hellion tastes like spicy or original recipe?
She looks like she just saw a ghost, a unicorn, and Hello Kitty having a three-way in a clown car and they didn’t invite her.
No need to kill everyone. They know not to let their Chihuahuas piss on my lawn.
Maybe I’ll live long enough to find out. The way the day is going, though, I’ll be lucky to make it through the appetizer course.
Let me make sure I have this straight. The cavalry just now rode into town and it's a Czech Gypsy porn-star zombie killer. Have I got that right?
It’s more than coping. It’s adaptation. You go into the dark one species and mutate to fit your surroundings. Grow better eyes and ears. Get used to the feel of the air so you can tell when something...
It explodes with an extremely satisfying whoomp. Satisfying to me, at least. It would be nice to think that the screams from the burning Hellion are him cheering me on for making such a great shot, bu...
If Jesus, Jesse James, and a herd of pink robot unicorns strolled in walking on water, this bunch wouldn't even look up.
If Jesus was a bartender, He would still only be half as cool as Carlos.
I can deal with fighting in the arena in Hell, but laundry and dishes put the fear of God in me.
Hellions look sort of like the little demons in that Hieronymus Bosch painting The Garden of Earthly Delights. Some look pretty human. Some look like the green devils on old absinthe bottles. Some are...
Everything's show biz in the end