The Pizza machine gets closed by the department of biological warfare. If you check it, you get told that if anyone's enjoyed a pizza from one of those machines, to immediately go to the hospital.
It's easy to miss, but there's a man standing next to Warren's apartment on Hope street with his back turned, looking down at something, and making strange motionswith hisleft arm. April is properly grossed out. Even worse is that if that's what he's really doing, he's doing it in broad daylight.
April and her diary is full of irony. For example:
"Sundays are made for sleeping in. Sundays are made for walking around in baggy clothes, watching movies, nursing headaches and hanging out with your friends at the cafe. Sundays are NOT made for going to the worst neighbourhood in town to find a kid who might be able to give you the information necessary to infiltrate a powerful cult that plans to take over the known universe. That's what Mondays are for."
April trying to use a computer like apparatus:
Terminal: Fair Use Bureau. They are authorized to carry deadly weapons."
And then there is Crow. He is the talking bird side-kick that makes this game good.
April: Crow, I need you to fly over there and get some of those berries for me. And Crow?
Crow: Yes, ma'am?
April: Don't eat the berries.
Crow: No, ma'am."
April, at one point, tries to flirt with a cop to get information on a shuttle crash. The cop bluntly retorts, "Sorry, Ma'am. I'm gay."
April forges a work form to get two lazy maintenance guys to fix the police station entrance.
"Fix the damn door!"
When April rescues Crow from the cups man, she struggles to fit him into her "inventory".