I've, uh, suddenly realized that I have very few fiction books. I forgot that I mostly read non-fiction. Oops...

Well, at the very least, this could be a good opportunity to take some suggestions! PM me an interesting, funny, or otherwise unique quote from a book you like (as well as the book it came from and author's name), and I'll probably write it. I'll also be sure to credit you for your help.

Thanks in advance!


"What if I were gay?"

"For the last time," Nastasia muttered with a sigh, digging her fork into her bowl of spaghetti, "we wouldn't mind. Now be quiet and eat your food, 'k? We're on a tight schedule."

"Okay, okay," Mimi relented, leaning back into her chair and swivelling her head around the dining room. "Buuuuuut, what if I were, say, super duper annoying? Would you hate me then?"

"You are super duper annoying," Mr. L called from the oven, stirring a pot of pasta.

Mimi pouted, crossing her arms. "Not funny, L."

"I wasn't joking."

"Enough, you two. Mr. L, don't make me come over there."

Mr. L shrugged and turned back to the burner, only to shriek in surprise when he spotted the water boiling over, threatening to spill onto him. He quickly reached for the temperature dial, turning the burner off. The pot of pasta began to settle down.

"I thought ye said ye knew how teh cook spaghetti," O'Chunks commented from beside Nastasia, an eyebrow cocked. His face was smothered with red sauce, as well as his fingers. Looks like he didn't bother with utensils today.

Mr. L glared in reply. "I do! I know how to cook spaghetti!" He paused, glancing warily back at the pot. "Or, I think I do. I know the gist of it, anyway." A long, awkward pause ensued. Everyone slowly turned in their chairs to face him with various baffled expressions. Mr. L snarled, clearly embarrassed. "Lay off, okay?! I'm trying here!"

"Whatever," Mimi said dismissively, returning her gaze to Nastasia. "Now, what if I were—"

"...A nose picker, a fanfiction writer, or desperately in love with the Count, for starters?" Dimentio smiled from the far end of the table, reading a small black book caked in green sparkles. His eyes twinkled as he turned to another page. "Ooh! Or what if you were actually—"

"DIMMY!" Mimi shrieked, instinctively chucking a bright red Rubee into Dimentio's chest. The jester was knocked off his chair, but laughed uncontrollably as the girl snatched the book from the floor and stuck out her tongue. "Nastasia! Tell him to stop taking my diary!" she whined.

"Tell her to hide it better," Dimentio retorted, out of breath and laughing on the ground. "Under your pillow? Honestly? That's not hard to find, my friend."

Nastasia's eyes narrowed, and she very pointedly eyed each of the minions individually. "Dimentio, I'm losing my patience. Stop taking Mimi's Diary. O'chunks, use a damn napkin. Mimi, quiet at the table. And Mr. L..." She grabbed the bridge of her nose, inhaling. "...learn to cook or something, 'k?"

The table fell silent. Dimentio returned to his seat, a grin still plastered on his face. O'Chunks wiped his face with his sleeve as he ate with his bare hands. Mr. L arrived at the table with a bowl of stale pasta with too much parmesan cheese on it. Mimi didn't eat and simply watched the others in silence.

Until she spoke again.

"But what if I was gay?"

"Mimi, I swear to Grambi..."


"What if I were gay?"
Be More Chill, Ned Vizzini
Chapter 24