I've been on a James Bond kick lately. I've never watched the films, but upon suddenly finding myself with leisure time, I watched Live and Let Die (blaxploitation at its most archetypical), Dr. No and read Casino Royale. I bring to you this fine excerpt, about the bodyguard of Le Chiffre:
The one more or less behind Le Chiffre's right arm was tall and funereal in his dinner-jacket. His face was wooden and grey, but his eyes flickered and gleamed like a conjurer's. His whole body was restless and his hands shifted often on the brass rail. Bond guessed that he would kill without interest or concern for what he killed and that he would prefer strangling. He had something of Lennie in Of Mice and Men, but his inhumanity would not come from infantilism but from drugs. Marijuana, decided Bond.
