If It Looks Like A Dwarf, And

Sig Sauer. Nine Millimetres. Thirteen In The Magazine. Big Bullets. One Of These Hits You And It Could Blow Your Head Off; Something Even The Magic Can't Fix. Other Than That You Should Be All Right, Presuming You Remembered To Wear The Regulation Above-ground Micro-fibre Jumpsuit Recently Patented By Me. Then Again, Being A Recon Jock, You Probably Didn't.

Anything Can Be Real. Every Imaginable Thing Is Happening Somewhere Along The Dimensional Axis. These Things Happen A Billion Times Over With Exactly The Same Outcome And No One Learns Anything. Whatever A Person Can Think, Imagine, Wish For, Or Believe Has Already Come To Pass. Dreams Come True All The Time, Just Not For The Dreamers.

No, Mademoiselle, I Would Not Like To See The Children's Menu. I Have No Doubt That The Children's Menu Itself Tastes Better Than The Meals On It. I Would Like To Order à La Carte. Or Don't You Serve Fish To Minors?

Foaly Twitched His Tail Contentedly. Genius. No Point In Being Humble About It.

Careful, Mr. Spiro, Guns Are Dangerous. Especially The End With The Hole.