We retain a catch of those pretty stories.

Disaster strikes, and in the end goofy Saul Malone is left alone to discover the core world, which is peopled by molelike creatures whom he describes as “cockeyed copulators,” “drunk on fornication and cheap pineapple wine.”

Do you think a little thing like a scratch would bother me? I'm no punk.

...the prosecuting attorney referred to the defendant as a “murderer” in one instance, and in another as a “redhanded murderer.”