I'm getting married in the morning! / Ding dong! the bells are gonna chime. / Pull out the stopper! Let's have a whopper! / But get me to the church on time!

A tiny dark object came sailing out of the window and landed at the giant's feet. Polybotes yelled, "Grenade!"
He covered his face. His troops hit the ground.
When the thing did not explode, Polybotes bent down cautiously and picked it up.
He roared in outrage. "A Ding Dong? You dare insult me with a Ding Dong?" He threw the cake back at the shop, and it vaporized in the light.

I did have a bit of a ding-dong when we were together.

I respected Greg a lot. We had some real ding-dong battles - especially in that 1983 Tour of Lombardy.... The finish was so close.

All around him the branches of the trees had frozen solid, reaching out white fingers of glass that looked as if they would shatter in any breeze, or chime like musical bells. The world looked strangely magical.

Coughing in the theater is not a respiratory ailment. It is a criticism.