These are all from Carl Hiaasen's "Basket Case": When Juan opens the door, I salute from the couch. He grabs a beer for himself and sits down in one of the matching faded armchairs. "The Marlins are playing," he says. "That's a matter of opinion." "Where's the TV?" Juan motions to the vacant space in the center of the wall unity. "Don't tell me you launched it off the balcony again." That sometimes happens when I try to watch music videos. "It's pathetic," I say to my friend. "I'm not proud of myself." "Who was it this time?" "One of those 'boy bands.' I don't remember which." --------------------------------- "You mean, like, fate. Don't tell me you believe in fate?" "Not fate. Black irony. That's what I believe in." Janet whistles. "Ever thought about changing jobs?" "Can I ask what happened to your father?" "He was screwing one of his students when her boyfriend showed up. It was, like, her nineteenth birthday. My father jumed out the dormitory window to get away, but six stories is a long way down. Too bad he taught English lit and not physics." Janet smiles ruefully. "That's why I'm not too worried about checking out at fifty-two." "Gotcha," I say. "I mean, there's fate, Jack, and then there's just plain stupidity." --------------------------------- "You don't worry me," snarls the chairman and chief executive officer of Maggad-Feist Publishing Group, "You're a gnat on the radar screen." "On the windshield you mean, " I say helpfully, "On a radar screen I would be a 'blip'." "Fuck you."