[continued from previous message] 
  
 like ... a heavy cleaver cutting through a melon ... a crisp moist 
 smack. The head fell and rolled a little. The torso slumped neatly. I 
 see now why they tied wrists to feet ... the brain had no time to tell 
 the heart to stop, and the final beat bumped a gush of blood out of the 
 headless torso on to the plinth." 
  
 And you can bet they won't be talking about this at Buckingham Palace 
 today. 
  
  
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  * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)