Word: pistoled
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...unprecedented fourth term (or fifth, if one counts the partial term served by Wallace's wife, the late Governor Lurleen). Wallace, at 63, beat a well-heeled moderate Birmingham suburbanite, George McMillan. Alabama liberals wince at the choice available in November: either George Wallace or the Republicans' pistol-packing law-and-order Reaganite mayor of Montgomery, Emory Folmar. In the weird way that these things happen, Folmar, 52, is playing the part of the old George Wallace in this race, running against the new George Wallace, the aging and re-upholstered...
...always carries a pistol, a knife and a hand grenade on his belt, Hobeika was the most feared Phalangist in Lebanon. He had taken part in the Tel Zaatar massacre and in attacks on the rivals of Bashir Gemayel. The Israelis knew Hobeika and his followers as ruthless, brutal security men, and knew they did not constitute a disciplined military force...
...most ways it was a rather standard gangland slaying. The victim was driving his 1977 Lincoln Continental through The Bronx in New York City one evening last week when a passenger in the car suddenly placed a .38-cal. pistol to the back of his head and fired a single shot. The Continental swung out of control and smashed into a parked car. The assassin jumped out and climbed into a trailing red Buick LeSabre, which then sped away. But the victim happened to be Nat Masselli, 31, son of Mobster William ("Billy the Butcher") Masselli, 55. And that made...
...dance wickedly on the grave of one of Edie's ancestors. Recall the night that Rock Star Jim Morrison paid sexual obeisance to Jimi Hendrix on the stage of Steve Paul's nightclub, the Scene. Watch Warhol shrug as a woman invades his Factory, takes out a pistol and shoots a hole through the foreheads of seven stacked Marilyn Monroe portraits-just a few years before Andy himself would be shot by another female intruder. Gobble gobble...
...playwright with a manic giggle and an iron handshake, Nathan Lane is the kind of disciple who could drive a deity to drink. Doubling as director of Present Laughter, Scott favors a whirlwind pace and high-decibel delivery. Casting himself against type is a bonus. This is a Patton pistol-whipped by endless frustration. There is high glee in watching George C. Scott do a fast burn of impotent, unutterable rage. - By T.E. Kalem