Word: crunchingly
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Early on. and while still sober, she can richly crunch even Coward's soggier lines, tangle with an all-too-cultured maid, or just move or stand still with feral ladylikeness. But not till a few corks have popped does she attain full stature. She is never so grand as when lurching, nor so gymnastic as when trapped in telephone cord. She employs her cigarette holder like a wind instrument, makes her gold scarf as vital to the production as several of the actors. She strikes attitudes so embattled that they seem to strike back, and she can dispose...
...pavilions overflow, and the surplus spills into the streets. Sides of mutton hang along the northern wall of the church of Saint Eustache; mountains of crated cabbages and oranges block the sidewalks for half a mile. Buyers for hotels, restaurants, retail groceries and butcher shops swarm and haggle, crunch over the crushed ice of the fish pavilion to finger white octopuses or boxes of shiny mackerel, delicately press ripe Camemberts and sniff critically at Bries. As dawn breaks, late partygoers pick their way gingerly across the littered gutters to one of the small, famed bistros like...
Finished with the book and too ashamed for another round of smorgasbord. I concluded the meal with three desserts, apple crunch cake, Norwegian rosettes, and rum pudding. After lapping up the last of the rum, I forgave my Scandinavian friends for serving French pastry and said goodbye to the waiter, the dishwasher, the cold chef, the hot chef, and the just plain chefs. I paid my check, $1.50, with one dessert, and told my hostess I'd be back on May 17 when the patio would be open. The seventeenth is of course, Norwegian Independence...
Later, on shore, we discussed this phenomenon. After consulting local authorities, the Captain and I decided that the island was a Guatemalan Dragger-crunch, which appears only when all the world's children under the age of six have brushed their teeth three times...
...apparently an attempt to decide the heavyweight championship of Hollywood. In one corner stands Burt Lancaster, congenital desperado, and in the other Gary Cooper, Southern gentle man dispossessed by the Civil War. The rough stuff gets under way somewhere south of the border, around 1866. Bullets squeal, gun butts crunch, death screams gurgle, bombs go bam! And when a man is all tuckered out, some señorita is like as not to come slinking up with a rose in her teeth and a pigsticker in her rebozo. Actor Lancaster (a co-producer of the movie) is the virtuoso...