If the audience will kindly come forward and occupy the vacant seats
in the front of the hall, the entertainment will now begin.  The male
quartet will first render an appropriate selection and then .  .  .  .
Can't you see them from where you are? Let me assist you in the
visualization. 

The first tenor, the gentleman on the extreme left, is a stocky
little man, with a large chest and short legs conspicuously curving
inward.  He has plenty of white teeth, ash-blonde hair, and goes
smooth-shaven for purely personal reasons.  His round, dough-colored
face will never look older (from a distance) than it did when he was
nine.  The flight of years adds only deeper creases in the multitude
of fine wrinkles, and increasing difficulty in hoisting his tiny,
patent-leather foot up on his plump knee. 

The second tenor leans toward him in a way to make another man
anxious about his watch, but the second tenor is as honest as the
day.  He is only "blending the voices." He works in the bank.  He
is going to be married in June sometime.  Don't look around right