Fructose is the Voldemort of the metabolic syndrome pandemic: stealthy, ever-present, and bad for the common good.

But he had strong reservations about her plans for a children's television series. With its platoon of educational advisers, the show was bound to be academicked to death.

The exhaustless conjecturings of that evening's full conversation, made such of the small party, as had hitherto been strangers, well acquainted with each other's turn of mind[…]

His arched back ached from the constant strain.