In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
Q: The four women stood on the same brick sidewalk Friday night outside the Modell Center for the Performing Arts. All four identified themselves as survivors of sexual assault. But in every other way that mattered, they were miles apart. 
  
 Two of the women carried signs and a megaphone and said they were there on behalf of the dozens of women who say they were sexually abused by Bill Cosby between 1965 and 2008. Julia Griffin, 19, of Towson, and Sonja Kinzer, 46, of Glen Arm, said they want to make sure that Cosby never performs his standup act in Baltimore again. 
  
 The other two — Zeanyanna Johnson, 51, and Ruth Flowers, 82 — came out in support of the entertainer, who denies the accusations and who has not been charged with a crime. 
  
 "I have been sexually assaulted," said Johnson, who lives in Baltimore. "I know what it feels like. But the man hasn't been charged with a crime, and the man hasn't gone to court. The Bible says, 'Judge not, lest you be judged.'" 
  
 The disagreement between protesters and patrons started outside the venue at 140 W. Mount Royal Ave., as has become common on what Cosby has called his Far From Finished Tour. Both sides traded barbs as the ticket buyers made their way past about 15 picketers. The protest was organized by the advocacy group SlutWalk Baltimore. 
  
 Despite allegations that he drugged and raped dozens of women, embattled entertainer Bill Cosby brought his live show to Baltimore Friday night. Derek Valcourt was there. Despite allegations that he drugged and raped dozens of women, embattled entertainer Bill Cosby brought his live show to Baltimore Friday night. Derek Valcourt was there. SEE MORE VIDEOS 
  
 But during the Baltimore show, the disagreement spilled over into the performance itself. 
  
 About 10 minutes into Cosby's set, and in the middle of an anecdote about grammar, a man stood up in the middle of the balcony of the half-full auditorium and shouted: "Thirty-eight women spoke up and called you a rapist. Thirty-eight women!" 
  
 Throughout the hall, customers who were angry that the comedy act was being disrupted began to yell, "Shut up!" One called out, "I love you, Bill!." 
  
 As Cosby's heckler demanded a response, Cosby called for his fans to remain quiet. 
  
 "I am going to handle this the way I want it handled," he said, his voice reflecting no apparent unease. 
  
 "We're going to remain calm. We don't need to yell and argue. We're going to let the person talk until the usher finds him and politely and quietly gets him to leave." 
  
 Five minutes later, the protester was escorted out, and Cosby continued his routine, though some of his comic bits might have become colored with unintentional overtones. 
  
 For instance, Cosby talked about being 3 years old and stealing a quarter from the collection plate at church. It was his first understanding of what it meant to sin. 
  
 He told the crowd that he vastly preferred Jesus Christ to his less-forgiving father. 
  
 "Jesus would give you a little wiggle room," Cosby said. 
  
 "If you did something wrong, he'd say, 'OK, don't do it again.' " 
  
 Anecdotes like that that left Kinzer feeling bewildered, she said. How, she asked, could anyone hear that and not be offended? 
  
 "These people know these women were victimized, and they couldn't care less," she said. "They should be ashamed of themselves." 
  
 But Johnson and Flowers didn't see it that way. They're bothered that the women waited for decades, in some instances, before coming public with their accusations. 
  
 "Why didn't they come forward at the time?" Johnson asked. "What I say is: Show me some evidence before you destroy a legend." 
  
 mary.mccauley@baltsun.com ||||| Protesters turn out to shame Bill Cosby show goers in Baltimore. Just hours before the show, two more women came forward accusing Cosby of drugging and sexually assaulting them. (Reuters) 
  
 BALTIMORE – Not 15 minutes into his show, Bill Cosby found himself being jeered by several protesters in the balcony of the Modell Performing Arts Center. They demanded he respond to the more than two dozen women who have accused him of sexually assaulting them. 
  
 Cosby’s fans were quick to shout back. “Shut up!” 
  
 Cosby, himself, motioned for quiet by slowly waving his hands toward the stage floor. 
  
 “Just remain calm,” he said. “We are here to enjoy my gift. We are not here to argue. Let those people speak. We will find them and ask them to leave.” 
  
 Before long, the hecklers were gone and Cosby returned to a routine that’s changed little over time, a masterfully-spun-if-aging monologue on the trials and tribulations of childhood and marriage. He wore what has become his standard concert uniform, the baggy sweat-suit adorned by “HELLO FRIEND.” 
  
 The crowd seemed dulled momentarily by the jeers, but warmed as the 77-year-old comedy icon reached for old standbys. Hating his younger brother. Watching the four scoops of his ice cream cone tumble to the street. And drawing scolding looks from his wife, Camille, for such violations as not putting his socks in the hamper. 
  
 Despite the material, the evening was anything but routine. 
  
 You couldn’t buy a water bottle at the theater. Security worried one might be thrown at the performer. Also, early in the day, two more women held a press conference to accuse Cosby of drugging and sexual assaulting them. The many accounts, which date back years but have been gathering attention since last October, have hampered Cosby’s “Far From Finished” tour. Many dates have been canceled. Other concerts have been a hard sell for a comedian who, until recently, could easily fill two theaters a day. 
  
 Officials at the 2,500-seat Modell would not release sales figures Friday, but rows of empty seats lined the balcony. Outside the theater, about 35 protesters gathered with signs before the 8 p.m. show. 
  
 “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Sonja Kinzer, a 46-year-old freelance photographer, shouted at ticket-holders as they entered the theater. 
  
  
  
 Sonja Kinzer, center left, and Pam Stein, center right, hold signs and shout at people going into the theater where comedian Bill Cosby appeared in Baltimore. (Bill O’Leary/The Washington Post) 
  
 “I’m upset with the Lyric and disappointed with people going in,” said Kinzer. “There are a million of other things they could be doing tonight.” 
  
 Even patrons admitted this was no normal show. 
  
 Adrian Nicholson, a contractor, got the tickets from a friend for free after that friend’s wife got angry about her husband buying a pair of tickets. 
  
 “I’m not really a fan,” said Nicholson. “I came more for the notoriety and to see the hoopla. I wanted to see if there was going to be more support or more negativity.” 
  
 And then there was Russell Hawkins. The 44-year-old plumber got the tickets for Christmas from his wife, Jessica. She had purchased them earlier in the year, before this wave of accusations. 
  
 “I was like, oh s—,” he said, first thinking he’d never want to go. 
  
 Then, over the next month, he thought more about Cosby and the entertainment world. 
  
 “They all do it,” said Hawkins. “It doesn’t make it right, but it’s the nature of the beast.” 
  
  
  
 A protester, left, and a ticket holder hold a heated conversation in front of the theater. (Bill O’Leary/The Washington Post) 
  
 Cosby’s routine varied little from his show last November in Melbourne, Fla., not long after women began to speak out about what they said was a pattern of sexual assault. Those hoping for some revelatory, public response to the new charges would have been disappointed. 
  
 About 35 minutes in, Cosby was somewhere in the early 1940s, a small boy listening to his older, hard-drinking and spare-talking uncle. He got to tales of love and marriage — about childhood birthday parties, about making children do their homework — sometime after 9 p.m. And by 10:12 p.m., he was done, the crowd loose and laughing. 
  
 “That was better than I thought it would be,” said Miles Wagner, a 47-year-old plumber who spent much of the show doubled-over or shouting “that’s right” during the tales of domestic life. “No cursing. The storylines are excellent and I can relate to them all.” 
  
 Wagner was a rare example of a fan who bought his tickets because of the controversy surrounding Cosby. He had no idea the comedian was coming to town — until he heard about planned protests on the news. He clicked through Ticketmaster Thursday night. 
  
 What about the accusations? Wagner doesn’t believe the women. He also didn’t appreciate the protesters disrupting the show. 
  
 “I paid my money to go and hear Bill Cosby,” he said. “That was just tacky.” |||||
A: 
Bill Cosby is still going at it, with a performance in Baltimore last night following what is by now a typical script: About 10 minutes into the show, a protester stood and shouted, "Thirty-eight women spoke up and called you a rapist. Thirty-eight women!" reports the Baltimore Sun. Cosby fans then shouted their own support in response, as Cosby himself asked people to take it easy until security did its thing. “Just remain calm,” he said, as quoted by the Washington Post. “We are here to enjoy my gift. We are not here to argue. Let those people speak. We will find them and ask them to leave.” Another regular part of the Cosby experience: Show-goers were greeted by protesters outside the venue. The Sun quotes two women at the performance, both of whom say they were victims of sexual assault in their own lives, with opposing views: 'Ashamed': "These people know these women were victimized, and they couldn't care less. They should be ashamed of themselves." No charges: "I know what it feels like. But the man hasn't been charged with a crime, and the man hasn't gone to court. The Bible says, 'Judge not, lest you be judged.'"