“How can I be a hero?” Wendy whimpered. “Heroes don’t get scared!” “Course they get scared! Do ya know what makes a person a hero?” “No,” Wendy sniffled. “A hero is someone who looks their fear right in the face, and spits!”

“Is that so, Mr…uh, what’s yer name again? Up and Down? Side to Side?” “In-N-Out,” the spy replied dryly. “Yeah, yeah, In-N-Out. I knew it was a weird name like that.” “It’s not just a name, it’s my occupation.”

“Good one! Hey, you’re all right, kid! Look, you ever find yourself jonesing for a sandwich, stop by my restaurant, all right? Tell ‘em Jersey Mike sent ya!” With that, Jersey Mike motioned to Smashburger and the two strode off. “‘Jonesing’?” Wendy asked. Baskin and Robin shrugged. “It means ‘craving,’” said a voice from within the cottage. “Why didn’t he just say ‘craving’?” “As I have so recently discovered,” replied the voice, “those men seem to have a language all their own.”

“What about him?” asked Wendy, pointing to the tavern’s lone customer. “He looks a little shifty.” “I yam what I yam,” said the man with a shrug. “What does that mean?” “Wendy,” Baskin sighed in exasperation. “Could you just pretend for five minutes that you have good manners?” “I yam what I yam,” Wendy mimicked.