Any art opening in a 20-mile range was in danger of  being  descended upon by the cheese and wine vultures who cared not a wit for culture but were not about to pass up a free meal.

The director, debauched and decrepit, was unable to rein in his leading actor whose arrogance was matched only by his stupidity.

For four long years he toiled in obscurity, banging his head against the universe.

She sensed spring in the air even as she shivered in the wind.

The king was surrounded by sycophants and yes-men, but cared only for the attentions of his cat who was, at best, stingy with her affections.

"Dolores always did know how to knock em' dead," whispered Gail as the ex-stripper turned state executioner threw the switch.

He knew she was trouble — a devil in red panties — but Jake was never much of a theologian.