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...urage with a bottle of whatever the poison-of-the-week was...

Sighing, Josh wheeled Bellamy into position, flicked on the overhead floods then shuffled "Nattfödd" onto his IPOD and popped on his headphones.  Josh didn't understand Swedish, but the Black Metal Polka infused him with a certain frenetic energy.

"Subject Id'd as Raymond Bellamy, Caucasian male approximately six feet tall, 262 pounds.  Body delivered to St Pauls Hospital, naked and suffering from a gunshot wound to his left shoulder and possible claw-marks across his upper right torso and abdomen....  He was offocially pronounced dead at  03:41, this date." Josh began reciting into his digital recorder s he began the inspection of the body, careful to record every detail. 

With the headphones on and Finntroll growling so stridently, Josh was oblivious to the rest of his surroundings.  Nothing existed for him except the music and the body of Raymond Bellamy.

The body does something a dead body shouldn't do...

Uh oh. No one's written this branch yet. :o

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