You know what this is? A test, that's what. That slippery, hot-blooded weasel is trying to push me as far as he can. He thinks I'm not tough enough. He wants mucho macho. He wants machetes and machine pistols and nightscopes. He wants us to dress in fatigues and crawl through minefields and bite the necks off live chickens. That's his idea of revolution. No subtlety, no wit, no goddamn style.
( Carl Hiaasen )
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