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breaking benjamin

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“You're supposed to be a spirit of intellect. I don't understand why you're obsessed with sex." Bob's voice got defensive. "It's an academic interest, Harry." "Oh yeah? Well maybe I don't think it's fair to let your academia go peeping in other people's houses." "Wait a minute. My academia doesn't just peep -" I held up a hand. "Save it. I don't want to hear it." He grunted. "You're trivializing what getting out for a bit means to me, Harry. You're insulting my masculinity." "Bob," I said, "you're a skull . You don't have any masculinity to insult." "Oh yeah?" Bob challenged me. "Pot kettle black, Harry! Have you gotten a date yet? Huh? Most men have something better to do in the middle of the night than play with their chemistry sets.”

FunnyBobBanter
Book:Storm Front
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“He also said that I would never get an apology out of you.” There was a long pause. “I want one. Now.” Xcor put aside his soup and found himself searching the wounds he had given himself, recalling all that pain, all that blood—which had dried brown on the floorboards beneath him. “And then what,” he said in a rough voice. “You’ll have to find out.” Fair enough, Xcor thought. Without grace—not that he had any, anyway—he rose to his feet. At his full height, he was unsteady for too many reasons to count, and the off-balance feeling got even worse as he met the eyes of his… friend. Looking Throe in the face, he stepped up and put out his palm. “I am sorry.” Three simple words spoken loud and clear. And they didn’t go nearly far enough. “I was wrong to treat you as I did. I am… not as much of the Bloodletter as I thought—as I have e’er wanted to be.”

BobBdb
Book:Lover Reborn
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“It’s boring.” “Oh,” I said. I rubbed at my jaw. “You think I should have gone four-color?” Bob stared at me for a second and said, “I have nightmares about Hell, where all I do is add up numbers and try to have conversations with people like you.” I glowered up at the skull and nodded. “Okay, fine. You think it needs more drama.” “More anything. Drama would do. Or breasts.” I sighed and saw where that line of thought was going. “I am not going to hire a leggy secretary, Bob. Get over it.” “I didn’t say anything about legs. But as long as we’re on the subject . . .”

LegsBobHarry DresdenJim Butcher
Book:Side Jobs
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