Excerpt..

"The cough would start in silence; first there was the great inhale, the smoke sucked deep down into the lungs, and held there while the victim waited for what was to be an agonized body spasm. The face would first turn a sweaty lemon, the shoulders hunched, the back humped like Brahmin bull. The legs would bend, the hand grabbed the thighs to support the coming convulsion. The cough would start somewhere down in the shins, the eyes would be screwed tight to prevent being jettisoned from the head, the mouth gripped tight to preserve the teeth. Suddenly! from afar comes a rumbling like a hundred Early Victorian Water Closets. Slowly the body would start to tremple and the bones to rattle. The first things to shake were the ankles, the up the shins travelled the shakes, and next the knees would revolve and turn jelliform; from there up the thighs to the stomach it came, now heading for the blackened lungs. This was the stage when a sound like a three ton garden roller being pulled over corrugated iron was heard approaching the heaving chest. Following this up the convulsed body was a color pattern, from a delicate green at the ankles to layers of pinks, blue, vericose purple, and sweaty red. As the cough rose up the inflated throat, the whole six colours were pushed up into the victim's face. It had now reached the inner mouth; the last line of defence, the cheeks, were blown out the size of football bladders. The climax was nigh!! The whole body was now a purple shuddering mass! After several mammoth aattempts to contain the cough, the mouth would finally explode open! Loose teeth would fly out, bits of breakfast, and a terrible rasping noise filled the room, Aweeioussheiough!! followed by a long silent stream of spume-laden air; on and on it went until the whole body was drained of oxygen, the eyes were popping and the veins like vines standing out on the head, which was now down 'twixt knees. This atrophied pose held for seconds. Finally, with a dying attempt, fresh air was sucked back into the body, just in time to do it all over again. Bear in mind this was usually performed by sixty men all at the same time. Whenever I see those bronzed 'Jet Set Men' whose passport to International smoking is a King Size, I can't help but recall those Bronchial Dawn Coughing Wrecks"

- Spike Milligan from "Adolf Hitler- My part in his downfall".

Actually, with minimal editing this could easily be made a description of something else..