The new Anita Mann was in full swing. Gone was her old scripted stodgy self, and in was her new spontaneous and youthful self. No one had the heart to tell her it sucked, so she went with it, full on.
Looking at Peter Dixon, you would never be able to tell that he had just committed the perfect crime. His poker face was so good that you saw a shadow of a man showing the appropriate amount of sadness one would feel after the death of his wife.
McGruff the Crime Dog is a bloodhound. He likes to wear a rumpled trench coat. Since July 1980, with the aid of the National Crime Prevention Council, he has increased crime awareness in the United States through millions of dollars worth of public service announcements. When he’s not answering your questions, he is a freelance crime fighter with Janeane Garofalo and Mark Ruffalo. Sometimes, they team up with San Francisco 49ers quarterback, Jimmy Garoppolo.
It is amazing, mostly awkward, how one’s life can change drastically within seconds. Take, for example, Alec Trissity, a thirty something man trying to get nine holes in as the mother of all storms brewed around him. If he had bothered to listen to any of the competent meteorologists, he would have known the severity of the situation.
Lightning crackled across the black sky, followed seconds later by a rumble of thunder. It was beautiful. Alec was too busy to admire it, for he was searching for his damn ball. He was more than sure that he got it on the green. For shits and giggles, he checked the hole. Lo and behold, there it was. Holy hell, he had just made a hole in one! As if to congratulate him, the lightning, thunder and rain doubled.