Word: ripping
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...yellow leather crash helmet, was pressed against an oblong sponge-rubber rim which framed the eyepiece of an 18-in. telescopic gun sight. Whenever his target centered in the cross hairs of the sight, he touched an electric firing key, watched a 15-lb. high-explosive projectile rip through a framework target tank...
What have they done with the rip-roaring scream-squeezing digestion-turning horrors of old? Where is the stupendous fantasy of King Kong, the revolting blackness of The Mystery of the Wax Museum, Zombie, The Cat and the Canary, Frankenstein? It seems that Hollywood first tried to give son-and-daughter sequels to these original blood-curdlers. And when that didn't work, they turned away from blackness for blackness' sake, and took refuge in the arms of Morality...
...rocky town of Toledo, Painter Theotokopoulos found himself on the rip-roaring crest of the Spanish Inquisition. Gaunt Dominican monks prowled the streets, hunting heretics. Middle-aged St. Theresa, businesslike in her hair shirt, wrote, declaimed, founded convents by the dozen. King Philip II's weedy, emaciated aristocrats, shunning the world with proud incompetence, vain of blood and sharp of feature, were furnishing Miguel de Cervantes with ideas for his best-seller Don Quixote...
Tucked into an old-fashioned house in the East Sixties is rich Doctor Talley, completely cut off from his children and the rest of the world; his son, Philip, useless to society and hopelessly drifting; his daughter, Avis, bitter, cynical, trying to rip hell out of the old order through the Youth Movement; her suitor, as useless as Philip, but dividing his time between the Columbia graduate school and Madison Ave. bars. Into the turmoil comes Enid Fuller, woman poetess, who still clings to her faith in the good people, and Manfried Geist, a European refugee, already destroyed inside...
After a while I thought about pulling the rip cord. "What about giving the old 'brolly' a tryout?" I thought. . . . The canopy streamed out, there was a hard jerk, and there I was right side up, quite comfortable and floating slowly, oh! so slowly, earthwards. I was about 9-10,000 ft. so I had fallen free for about 8 or 9,000 ft. (from 18,000 ft.) and might have fallen further with advantage. ... A Spitfire dived down past me with a high pitched whine, but that was the only disturbance...