"Pardon my French, bossman, but that's a crapload of bullshit."

Charles frowned at the idea of it, going through the same illness every few years. His words were fairly succinct, if the language was a little choice, and he turned his frown to Peter.

"Is there no way around this cosmic shit? I mean, I don't mind being old. But there's too many downsides, aren't there?"