'How many times must I show you?' barks Ranulph,
a rhetorical question but honestly felt,
'it's stab and then drag and then twist and then drag,'
and his dagger withdraws as he peels off the pelt.
'But uncle!' cries Spedwin, distressed by the violence,
'o must we slay paupers and harvest their skins?'
'You are stupid,' says Ranulph, and guts his drab nephew,
'did nobody tell you child? He who scares, wins.'