John C. Stipa

“David: “How the hell did you get dressed so fast?”Renee: “How do you know I didn’t streak naked through the lobby and had clothes waiting for me in the car?” David: “Heh. Good thing the archaeological paparazzi didn’t have a team on duty.”Renee: “I’d have taken ’em out. My whole body is a weapon.”

“Renee: “Trout, get your mind out of the gutter.”Trout: “Can’t help it—it’s attached to my body.”

“Renee: “The Greek government doesn’t know that I found anything that day in the temple. And they for sure wouldn’t want to know about the little mess I left behind.” She grimaced.Trout: “Little mess? You started a freakin’ cave in, you moron. Nice work by the way. Way to keep up international relations. ‘Uh, yeah, hi, I’m Renée, I’m an American. I’m here to, you know, like, drink all your wine, trash the joint, steal all your valuable shit and then bolt the country.’ Why didn’t you just drop your shorts and pee in the Parthenon?”