Tully scooped up his intestines from the ground, the blood bubbling against the hot concrete. The afternoon suburban air above him was crisp and light as the stench of roasted hemoglobin and wasted dreams wafted up toward his nose. His fingers caressed his once comfortably nestled bowels, now partially strewn across the pavement.
“Who has done this to me?” he called out toward the ether.. “Heaven help me, who hath committed this crime against mankind?”
Tully thought for a moment. His innards were still warm…The culprit couldn’t be far away. He drew in a deep breath and cleared his mind. After a few moments, his concentration was interrupted by a rustle in the bushes to his right. Had someone just giggled?
He jerked his head to the right as quickly as his rapidly draining life would allow. But it was too late. All that remained were a few stray leaves, a swaying bush…and a maraca.
“GONZAAALEEEZ!!” Tully screamed into the sunny afternoon sky.