The Wrong Dead Guy (Another Coop Heist, #2)
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Mooks were one of the DOPS’s more successful experiments. They were people in the sense that they had two legs, two hands, and two eyes, but they weren’t quite people in the sense that they were all incredibly dead. This technicality made it hard to come up with enticing Match.com profiles,
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“And I won’t be bumping off any of them.” Coop felt cold. “I hope you don’t think we’re . . .” Woolrich leaned back in his chair. “You? Either of you? Don’t be ridiculous. Neither of you is suited for it, especially you. I’m not even sure we should let you have sharp pencils.”
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Still, the ECIU wasn’t known for its high morale, and because it was so secret, none of its employees were allowed to speak to a DOPS psychiatrist or participate in softball, merengue lessons, the office pet program, or any of the other morale-building activities the DOPS offered.
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“It’s ghastly. I don’t want to know it exists, let alone that it exists in this office.”
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Having no access to vodka, he settled for being light-headed with fear.
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“Let me get this straight,” said Coop. “I have a mummy’s curse on me?” “I’m afraid so,” said Phil. “And the mummy has a chauffeur.” “Probably Netflix and pizza delivery, too.”
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“Really, Cooper, you’re in good hands. We can’t afford any more employee homicides until the next fiscal quarter,” said Woolrich.
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Minerva lowered the pistol and put it in her pocket. “Don’t let this bother you,” she said. “I just keep it around to shoot people with.
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But it looked rustic enough and was covered in obscure squiggles that, while they were probably spots from a lousy dye job, could be mistaken for arcane magical symbols by someone freaked out enough to believe in magic blankets in the first place.
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If we hang around, do you think we could move to a room with more than two TV channels? Between the siege of Stalingrad and half-naked girls, I’m simultaneously depressed, turned on, and deeply confused.”
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“A book. The job is breaking into a library.” “Are you serious? If you’re that hard up, I’ll lend you my library card. They let you take books home and everything.”
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In the Unfathomable Evil Unit there are . . . well, unfathomable evils. Malignant spirits and various unstable monstrosities. It’s not imprisoned, but there’s also Ping-Pong next door.” “What sort of a creature is a Ping-Pong?” Dr. Buehlman held up her fingers about an inch apart. “It’s a little plastic ball—” “Is it mad? Will it kill without mercy or warning?” “I suppose you could hurt someone’s eye with it.” “Then I will have this Ping-Pong for my army,” said Harkhuf.
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think psychiatry is Phil just trying to see how many people he can talk into doing something stupid with no clothes on.” “That might explain the crew in cyborg repair.”
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“Get a team up here to grease down this slider and squeeze him into a corpse bun.” He let up on the button. “Don’t worry about any of that. It’s just technical jargon. You wouldn’t understand.” “Unfortunately,” said Coop, “I think I do.”