Word: slug
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...Eldorado becomes obsessed with his imaginary network. Derived from guidebooks and railway timetables, the false messages flow to Madrid and thence to Berlin with "authentic" reports on everything from British re search on light alloys to homosexuality in the submarine service. Luis comes closer and closer to a Mauser slug in the chest. In real life, and most fiction, he would be cheaply expendable. Here he is not, because the rise of Luis from Franco's Most Wanted list to nouveau millionaire is too good to end abruptly, not least because his life is joined by Juliet Francis Conroy...
After the Romanians are losing by a large margin, though, one gets angry enough to slug a Czech, who in turn grabs the Romanian's stick. The Czech goes to the penalty box. There he is, a real live Czech sitting just a few feet away. "Take a picture, take a picture of him." So I do. It's embarrassing; after all he's not an animal...
...opening scene may not be original, but it certainly is promising. A very chic heroine (Ali MacGraw) follows a well-dressed man (Alan King) into Bergdorf Goodman and proceeds to slug him repeatedly with her purse. All hell breaks loose in the department store, and it seems that Director Sidney Lumet will transport his audience back to the glory days of Hollywood's glossy romantic comedies. Maybe MacGraw and King are no Lombard and Gable-or Day and Hudson-but at least they seem intent on having a good time. Just Tell Me What You Want looks...
...detectives reconstruct the event, McDuffie may well have tried to flee the police. He had accumulated traffic violations and was driving with a suspended license. Investigators believe that when McDuffie finally slowed down, police pulled him off his motorcycle. Then one officer held him as the others started to slug. "Adrenalin gets going during any high-speed chase," says one officer. "The cops just went crazy. They wanted to teach him a lesson." Says another who witnessed the incident: "They looked like a bunch of animals fighting for meat...
...slug of beer. The two men cross the old newspapers in the living room to enter the kitchen. They attack the cabinets, the ice box, the cake, the ham, and stuff home a midnight feast. Light another cigarette. Look at the old headlines. Flip through an old magazine. Yawn. Suck on a cigarette. And one of them sighs, "Jesus. I wonder what the Russians are going to do? I mean, what do they really want to do? Do they want oil? Do they want the Middle East? The world...