and while florya & friends sit on a river bank notiing trout....
glice crawls from the kitchen area where a hot pockets with broccoli and cheddar has been beeping for fourteen minutes, to the main hall where he, blood gazed and all, beholds three officers with twisted ivy etched and snarling / fanged grins; and a forth - clean shaven, shaking his head at the wounded victim. He should have wrote one more poem. He shakes his head while the others move in with palm & knee spattered blood prints.
"kill him boss," manages one.
"aye" gurgles a second.
but the boss turns and beckons them away. do you know who i am? he says. but they didn't they were just average hotshots on the fast track with a high repped sarge.
so he grinned an them with blood streaming out his eyes.
"I'm Papa Goulash."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkIgH2U3AY4
<silence on set>