Word: pocketing
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...guys, an average Boy Scout troop would seem like a bunch of Bowery bums. The warden (Patrick McGoohan), of course, is a sadistic horror. He speaks in malevolent epigrams ("Some are never destined to leave Alcatraz - alive") and carries on what appears to be a kinky relationship with his pocket nail clipper...
...asking for it since he took office more than two years ago?had still not quite arrived. Five more minutes passed, and then Soviet Communist Party Chief Leonid Brezhnev shuffled slowly from an elevator into the room. He looked slightly ill at ease, his left hand in his coat pocket, his right hand clutching his spectacle case. The delay in meeting, said Carter, had been "too long." "Da," replied Brezhnev. Then the two most powerful men in the world walked side by side down a long red carpet to an ornate 16th century receiving room, where they chatted good-naturedly...
...mentholated cigarettes, he drinks no alcohol except for dutiful sips at a dinner or reception. He never refuses a cigar, however. Devoted to his 90-year-old parents, whom he visits at a home for the elderly near his beloved Hamburg, he unfailingly sticks the proffered cigar in his pocket to take to his father. Schmidt and his wife spend every weekend possible in Hamburg. On summer holidays at their cottage on a lake in northern Germany, they are joined by their only child, Susanne, 31, an economist like her father, who works for the Deutsche Bank branch office...
...stuffed the wallet into his shirt pocket and went out to where the sun was knocking-down and dragging-out the chill. He pulled a garden hose out of a tool trunk on the carport and stretched out one end of it. Squatting, hurting, at the back of the the night before. He careened against the wall and his shoulder erupted again in fire. It seared, like it had last night when the lizard-skin boots kept swinging into him, fireballs exploding when they landed. He had already made himself forget whoever it was attached to the boots...
...stuffed the wallet into his shirt pocket and went out to where the sun was knocking-down and dragging-out the chill. He pulled a garden hose out of a tool trunk on the carport and stretched out one end of it. Squatting, hurting, at the back of the car--the car she had let him have when he left home--he fit the hose over the exhaust pipe and draped the other end up through a cracked window into the back seat. Then he edged into the front seat, locked the doors, and turned...