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Artist“Homicide,” buzzed the warble from the head of the snake black and slim as a cord draped over many a shoulder of the lawmen in the square. Each grappled with his snake pulling it limp from it’s coils to better hear the warble that sang like a canary caged inside the mouth of each speaker. Past the donut-dunkers in town hall the parchment-clad escritoire trembled beneath it’s printed wig as the man in the synthetic throne heaved a thing-gripper down gently as the Arizona sun beats upon it’s victims. “Stickerface,” roared McMurphy eyes plastered against the wall of the donut dunker’s faces. A princess lay captive in ink stretched frozen in monotone ribbons about her throat resembled a lace carved out of flesh. Nearby a fountain spewed red into her chocolate hair. McMurphy thing-gripped the prison lifting evidence up in the photo of the crime hate criminally dealt. Eyes narrowed like a turtle into shell spotting the fountain’s start the place where the bullet entered. Black bars straddled her chocolate temples above eyes not dark, but sad, seeing him asking, “Save me, knight?” “We found her on 3rd Avenue” drawled
