"She thinks you took advantage of her son."

"Oh my God!" I cried.

"She called you a succubus," Mukti added.

"What the hell is a suckerbus?"

"I called Anson — or I thought I was calling Anson —
and I asked him the age-old question: Who was that lady I saw you with?
and he replied, That was no lady — that was Anson Charpont!"
Ross followed his narration with a throaty chuckle.

In a nutshell, the song is about all the crazy, misguided things
a man might do if he fell for a woman: things like:
get a job, rent a decent apartment, bathe more frequently...

Carrie, delighted, smiled. Her eyes sparkled. "I knew something was up! It's like Freaky Friday, isn't it?" she laughed.

"Well, yes, I guess it is," I admitted. "Except that I'm not his mother."

Mukti's eyebrows went up. "And we can't switch back," he added.

Returning to the diagrams on the computer screen, I told them, "This is important. I think I need to call the FBI."

"Okay, fine," Cleo agreed. "But I'm sure they're sleeping now. You can call them in the morning."

Grinning, she took a few steps back, away from the car, and pointed to its dusty license plate.

"Nebraska," I read. And a bumper sticker: "We Don't Coast." I frowned, not understanding.
Then a light came on in my head. "Oh! Is this *my* car?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you Americans, the moment something happens to one of you,
the first thing you do is create a support group,
and the second thing is that you go on TV."

I thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, probably," I admitted.

When Matt said That's the protocol, it reminded me of something my grandfather told me
about his time in the Army: "The most important thing you can learn in the Army
is that there's a right way, a wrong way, and the Army way."

"How do you know which way is the Army way?" I asked him.

"It's in the manual," he replied.

"I'm staying with her," Femke told him, while pointing at me.

"No, no, that isn't how it works."

"If that isn't how it works," she replied, "I don't think you can say it's working."

"Incidentally," he added in a quieter tone, "my girlfriend can be quite jealous."

I paused in the doorway. "Okay, noted. Does she live with you?"

"No... not yet, anyway. But if she calls, don't talk or make noise, alright? And if she comes over, just... act normally."

"That's what I usually do," I assured him.

I sat there, stunned. This was bad, very, very bad. I was scared,
and for once I was scared for someone other than myself.

If Meredith stole that money -- if Meredith tried to steal that money,
it was bound to end badly for her.

“We have to get you a phone, and I guess we should talk about allowance.”

“What did you give Celine?” I asked.

He laughed. “Celine was a thief,” he replied. “You don’t need to give money to a thief.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re 42 years old!
You don’t need to ask your so-called parents. Seriously!”

“I’m thirteen,” I retorted, “in case you hadn’t noticed. By the way,
have YOU looked in the mirror lately, Mrs. Shearpen?
You’re not a forty-year-old man any more either!”

“If you walk out of this room, if we never see you again,
I will think about you every day.
I won’t want to, but that’s what will happen.”

“Huh,” I said, taking it in. “So how do they switch back? The people who got switched?
Do you bring them together and poof! they’re back to who they were?
Or does the switch wear off after an hour or a day or something?”