Word: shotgunned
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...book since For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) would be out in March, and 2) Hemingway had been close to death last February when he started writing it. As his publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons, told the story: Hemingway suffered blood poisoning in February from a fragment of shotgun wadding that lodged in his eye while he was shooting wild fowl in Italy. Doctors gave him a short time to live. Feeling that he could not finish the novel "of large proportions" that he had been working on for years, he started writing a new one, went right...
...finish, last week's farewell party for the retiring ambassador* and his wife was a happy get-together of good friends. Evita brought a new portrait down from the second floor to show her guests. Perón gave his friend Don Jaime a hand-tooled Belgian automatic shotgun, just the gift for an ambassador whose favorite Argentine sport has been weekend partridge shooting (in the Gaucho getup given him by Defense Minister Humberto Sosa Molina...
...away the most dashing. Wearing a flour sack with cutout eyeholes over his head and a long linen duster, he pulled his first job one sun-baked day in July by stepping out from behind a rock on a Calaveras County road and waving a sawed-off shotgun at Billy Hodges' stagecoach. "If they dare to shoot, give them a solid volley, boys," Black Bart shouted toward the rocks alongside the road. Driver Hodges, able to see half a dozen gun barrels covering him, eagerly threw down the green, ironbound Wells Fargo treasure chest. Next day an investigating party...
...They're Animals." Standing in the bright floodlights at the entrance, Mickey made a fine target. A burst of shotgun fire came from behind a signboard across the street. Special Agent Cooper, the man who was going to guard Mickey, toppled over with two slugs in his belly. Miss David was hit three times. A Cohen lieutenant dropped with a slug in his kidney, screaming. Only Mickey stood silent, without moan or shout. He had been drilled through the right shoulder...
...studio audience recoiled under a shower of dried beans and pin feathers; then a covey of dead quail and a stuffed cow flopped down onto the stage. There were shotgun blasts, scampering midgets, severed arms, proscenium-climbing cupids and baboons in full cry. Ole Olsen and Chic Johnson, the rowdiest, slap-happiest zanies in show business, had moved into Milton Berle's time spot (Tues. 8 p.m. E.D.T., NBC TV) with their first television show...