Word: underwear
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...THESE ARE WEDDING AND engagement rings lost in the drawer amidst the underwear. And it's all told in a style that might most charitably be called ungrammatical. Rock and roll writing should match the energy that defines that medium; Sanchez's prose sags and limps like a fat whore caught in a rumble. Perhaps Sanchez learned English as a second language. Certain words, like "fey" and "gossamer," become all-purpose modifiers, salt for his nouns--evervone in this book is at one time or another, "gossamer." But Sanchez's style doesn't come to full efflorescence till he describes...
...woman, later described by police as a prostitute, and raped her in a park. When a passer-by surprised him, Mullins retreated to the car with his victim; both were nude. Speeding off, he rammed a car. The woman ran for safety; Mullins, pausing only to pull on his underwear, gave chase. By then the police were on the scene. But Mullins was not through yet: in the final act of his rampage, he knocked one of the officers unconscious. If Mullins was tired after his crime marathon, so was the police computer. His rap sheet came to 42 pages...
...Thorpe of Watchdog News. Melvin is "the eyes and ears of Texas." He has unearthed candy-bar scandals and sets out to prove that, yes, the Chicken Ranch of Gilbert is indeed a house of ill-repute. Melvin, a particularly cloying character who sports red, white and blue underwear, would be innocuous if not for his southern-Bible-Belt style of self-righteous reportage. The perpetuation of yet another overworked stereotype eclipses the attempted parody...
...sidewalk, wounded. Almost simultaneously another Nationalist, Griselio Torresola, attacked a nearby guard post with a Luger, killing a White House guard, Leslie Coffelt, and injuring Plainclothesman Joseph H. Downs. Before he died, Coffelt killed Torresola. From an upstairs window, Truman, awakened from a nap, peered out in his underwear...
...group of kids who sang for small change in neighborhood taverns. By the time he was 14 he had found his main prop-a seven-cent Ricoro cigar. "I'd go into one of those places where they would press your suit while you stood in your underwear. I'd put it on hot-I wouldn't bend my knees until it had cooled off-and walk down the street with the Ricoro in my mouth. Nobody ever asked me what I did for a living. They knew it. I was in show business...