password Plus: I Love Lucy and Betty As it turns out, the two grandes dames of comedy make a pretty good team!
He was hosting the game show password in New York and I was living in California, and I said, “No way will I get married again.”
At one point there were several cops punching and slapping me in the head, so I relented and typed in the password.
She tried to open up his contacts with the hope of telling his friends what had happened, but she did not know the password.
Finally the man I took to be the one in charge—a stout older guy in a black beret—stepped in and demanded the password.
There was a good deal more talk; they decided what should be their password, and a great many other private matters.
Had his uncle known the password and forgotten to give it to him?
Andreas, in his old camp-sentinel days, once challenged the emperor himself with the demand for the password.
But to meet a man who would give a password savored too much of crookdom.
Inside, doubtless, there were high jinks going on; but the password was denied to me.