My Favorite Quotes
from Exit Strategies
from Exit Strategies
Being taken out of context, some of these might not make as much sense. I have plenty more, but couldn’t include those for fear of revealing plot twists and such, since this is a novella and not a collection of short stories like “Seasons Without Reason” and “Faith like a Ketchup Seed”.
Looking for Love’s Loopholes
to Avoid Long-Term Entanglements
For the shallow of soul
and faint of heart,
no phrase frightens more than
[Dennis]: “No wonder you get married so much. This device takes out the guess work.” No surprises! What you see is what you’re gonna get.
Buddy put down his empty mug and sighed. “Success is about finding the perfect Exit Strategy. With any play, you gotta know the way out, before you go in.” Seeing Serena returning, Buddy grabbed his phone back from Dennis. “Split Denim Skirt. Nine yards and closing.”
Dennis primped his hair and exhaled into his hand to check his breath. Mm. Maybe the spicy burrito wasn’t my best culinary choice. Too late now. My breath’ll have to do. And too bad it was undercooked; my insides feel queasy. He clutched his stomach and moaned.
“All systems go. This is not a drill. Aaaaaaand hike.” Buddy shoved Dennis off his stool in front of Serena.
People danced and ate at Buddy and Amanda’s wedding reception in the Community Hall of the Warrington Warehouse. Buddy’s supervisor Chet Baxter promised he could use the Community Hall when he got married, never realizing he would get married so many times. Being a former football star himself, only for the Grossmont Griffins, Chet felt like he and Buddy should stick together. Saved Buddy the extra $400 for the Fellowship Hall at the church. Plus, the write-offs helped the books balance. And the free publicity never hurt with marketing and sales either. Although having the company logo prominently displayed on the wedding cake struck most people as tacky.
Patty’s friends, acquaintances, and Dennis gathered inside the main chapel to pay their last respects, unknowingly to a synthetic replica of Patty’s corpse lying in an open coffin and wearing the red sequined dress. Okay, Dennis knew. He told their parents not to bother attending; and when questioned about their absence, said retirement didn’t allow them the luxury to travel back to Harbor Valley every time one of their kids died.
Dennis shrugged. He babbled a bit unintelligibly, as if he suddenly met a supermodel, or got his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth eating too much peanut butter. Although a mostly model citizen, he never fared well around authority figures. Stemmed from a childhood incident at the Newfound Playground Preschool, where his teacher Ms. Jenny Simmons criticized the way he played in the sandbox. Disappointed, dismayed, Dennis always wondered how anyone could play wrong in a sandbox.
Dennis continued speaking to the gathering of mourners. “Ironically, and somewhat sadly, the correct answer is Tim McGraw’s line ‘hope you get the chance to live like you were dying.’” Seeing Patty open the door to the side room, he feigned becoming choked up. “Let’s bow our heads and share a moment of silence for a dear, sweet woman, struck down in her prime by the scourge of rickets.”
As the others bowed their heads, Jack and Patty snuck out of the side room. Dennis peeked to see Patty grin and wave goodbye as she and Jack darted out the door.
“Let’s not sorrow too much, ‘cause she’s moving on to a much better place. And somehow, I sense, she’s not alone.”
Several women sighed a high-pitched, “Aw.”
[Buddy]: “If you’re so afraid of making a lifelong commitment.” Buddy belted the ball off the front wall with the force of a ricocheting bullet. “Start off small.”
Pondering that thought, Dennis missed the ball, so Buddy scored. 13-11. Score one for his distraction ploy!
“Try committing for one day?”
“Find a woman with a short life span. Someone hot. With only a little while to live.” Buddy bounced the ball and served again.
“Ew! Hot or not, not marrying a ninety-nine year old great, great granny!” Dennis returned the ball; Buddy missed; and Dennis won the serve.
Gaping for air, she [Patty] sighed. “We’ll be this happy forever.”
Jack gulped as the word “forever” echoed in his mind. Foreverrrrrrrrr, foreverrrrrrr, foreverrrrr, foreverrr, forever ...
[Patty]: “What is it about me that makes men want to die?” I thought guys liked my dimples.
“Sometimes you can be a little”--Catching Patty glaring, ready to elbow him, Dennis changed his train of thought.--“Um. Ask Buddy. He has the opposite problem. Only with him, they really do die. On second thought, don’t mention it. He’s touchy about being a poly-widower.”
“How would you feel if it was safer for women to chain-smoke nuclear cigarettes than marry you?”
[Dennis]: “Slow down, Sis. Getting drunk won’t solve anything.”
Buddy gibed, “Solves the problem of sobriety.”
Awkward silence. Even crickets felt too embarrassed to chirp.
Buddy pounded the table. “Come on. That was funny!”
Holding his racquetball racket, Dennis pounded on the door. “Open up, Captain Death! It’s time for your last breath!” He kicked at the door, stubbing his toe, but not budging the door. “Know you’ve got my sister in there!” He smashed his shoulder into the door that refused to open. “Don’t worry, Patty. Still gonna rescue you! Just might take a little longer!” He kicked, punched, pounded, and flung himself against the door, all to no avail. “Be patient!” Exhausted, panting, Dennis slumped to the ground, causing the welcome mat to slide to the side, revealing a key. He held the key as if wielding the mystical sword of Excalibur. Okay. Next time some psycho creep kidnaps my sister, check for a key, before busting my shoulder.
Cackling like the Joker when he’s about to dunk Batman into a vat of acid, Buddy drove his brand new Hummer down Market Street, turned onto Main Street, and headed toward the beach where he could eye sun bunnies. “Touchdown!”
Speeding down Serenity Shore Boulevard like a maniac, he swerved to avoid marring the grill of his car with Emma Kuhlman, a bag lady pulling a wagon full of cans.
Barely missed, Emma waved her angry right fist at him.
Buddy eyed her in his rearview mirror. “What’s she mad about? It’s my car that almost got dented.” Buddy chuckled. CRASH! He plowed into a police car stopped at a red light. POOF! His air bag smashed his face, giving him a bloody nose.
Dean
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Photo Source: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0080ID93E
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