In Philip Roth’s “Zuckerman Unbound,” Zuckerman, rocketed to fame and fortune by a book that looks a lot like “Portnoy’s Complaint,” is set upon by anyone and everyone in New York—on the bus, in a coffee shop, in front of a funeral parlor. They come to ogle him, or to complain about his scandalous, sex-ridden novel, or to tell him what to do with his money.

Has that dough risen yet?

If I were your boss, I'd deathmatch ya in a minute!

That little fuck-knuckle is into me for eighteen dimes, plus interest