Wroe would put a pillow in the oven, lay his head on it, and let the oven be heated as hot as he could bear it, to drive away a head cold.

Off in the distance, he heard the clap of thunder.

Ever since that bone-chilling post-Super Bowl two-parter […] Reid just can't say no to drugs.

That blessed mate he found for him, foremade, In the recesses of the wilderness.