Quotes from Carl Hiaasen

His face appeared to have been massaged with an industrial cheese grater and then retouched with a glue gun.

But I got some great buy on this Oldsmobile. You can't believe it." "Probably not." "I got it from a black guy." "For?" "Two hundred bucks.

Don't order the fish," Yancy advised Merry when they sat down. "But it's a seafood joint." "More like a petri dish with menus.

Throughout the long deep-state witch hunt—the doctored Minsk defecation video, the phony tax-evasion probe, the counterfeit porn-star diaries, the bogus Moscow skyscraper investigation, the hoax penile-enhancement scandal, the fake witness-tampering charges, and both fraudulent impeachment trials—the Potussies had remained steadfast, vociferous, adoring defenders.

Wild chickens were roaming all over the streets. 'Your pal ought to feel right at home,' Merry said. 'You kidding? He hates the damn things. Says they're filthy and crawling with lice.' 'Chickens get lice?' Coolman said, 'I work hard not to think about it.

No fooling, Keyes thought. He had arrived in Miami in 1979 from a small newspaper in suburban Baltimore. There was nothing original about why he'd left for Florida—a better job, no snow, plenty of sunshine. On his first day at the Miami Sun, Keyes had been assigned the desk next to Skip Wiley—the newsroom equivalent of Parris Island. Keyes covered cops for a while, then courts, then local politics.

his mother wanted him closer to home. The funeral had been

The pilot episode of Bayou Brethren was a major disappointment, the visual appeal of high-def hog shit having been overestimated by a network vice president who was summarily promoted to a more harmless position. The new network vice president in charge of the project felt the brothers needed a more esoteric vocation to distract from their unappealing personalities, a view shared by potential advertisers who had screened the off-putting pilot.

It's Brian, please. I get a new gray hair every time a pretty girl calls me mister.

I mean, you've got thirty detectives working on this murder, right? You must have had a list of suspects." "Not on this one." "So what we're talking about is blind luck. Some Beach cop nails the guy for running a traffic light and, bingo, there's Mr. Sparky Harper's missing automobile." "Luck was only part of it," Garcia said sourly. Keyes said, "You caught Cabal in the victim's car, but what else?

I didn't tell my parents what happened because they would've freaked and gone straight to Dusty Muleman, or maybe even the police, which was not how I wanted to handle it.

You'd be surprised," he said. "Just the other night, some guy pushed his wife overboard." The snip-snip-snip of the shears ceased.

Come on, Al, this wasn't a knife in the ribs. It was the ritual murder of a prominent citizen. How did Harper get into those silly clothes? Who smeared suntan oil all over him? Who stuffed a goddamn toy alligator down his throat? Who sawed his legs off? Are you telling me that some two-bit auto burglar concocted this whole thing?

Originally they left the Crow Nation with thirty-eight million acres. Know what it is today? One-tenth that size. They stole back the rest and paid us five lousy cents an acre.

set the conversation to Mozart's Offertory in D Minor, "Misericordias Domini.

It was the third dead body he'd found while fishing, but such was the reality of a childhood spent outdoors in Florida. It was a testament to the teen's passion for angling that he'd never considered

Why didn't you just ring the doorbell?' Stoat said. 'Why break into the house, and why'd you bust the shower door?' 'To put you in the proper frame of mind,' the man replied. 'Also, I was in the mood for some serious goddamn noise.

Stoat asked, 'Are you a manhunter?' 'More like a shit-scraper,' the visitor replied. 'And I'm starting with you.

As he was pulled underwater for the final time, terror gave way to abject humiliation: he was being fucked to death by a damn fish.

Merry whistled. "This parallel universe of yours, Andrew, I love it.

Look, I'll tell you the whole story, everything, but first let me dry off and put on some clothes, please?' 'No, you stay right there.' The man rose and reached for the toilet paper. 'In my experience,' he said, hoisting his checkered kilt, 'men who are buck naked and scared nutless tend to be more forthcoming. They tend to have better memories.

Meanwhile try not to think about you and me in the shower together, all slick and soapy. Not that I'd ever let that happen, but just try not to think about it.

Malley said, 'What's your problem, T.C.? If these two are dumb enough to swim through a lightning storm, let 'em go.' 'No, no, I gotta think.' The governor said thinking was highly overrated, which made me and my cousin laugh in spite of the situation.

Miklos said he's applied to be night clerk at a Ramada Inn near the beach. He said the waiting list was two pages long. 'But I got more experience than most.' 'You're not kidding,' Garcia said. 'Good luck with that job.' 'Thank you,' Miklos said. 'Good luck with your murder.