<Graham> Let's say you have an ax. The kind that you could
use, in a pinch, to hack a man's head off...
<Graham> And let's say that very situation comes up and for
some very solid reasons you behead a man.
<Graham> On the follow-through, though, the handle of the ax
snaps in half in a spray of splinters.
<Graham> So the next day you take it to the ax store down the
block and get a new handle, fabricating a story for the guy
behind the counter and explaining away the reddish dark stains
as barbeque sauce.
<Graham> Now, that next spring you find in your garage a
creature that looks like a cross-bred badger and anaconda. A
badgerconda.
<Graham> And so you grab your trusty ax and chop off one of
the beast's heads, but in the process the blade of the ax
strikes the concrete floor and shatters.
<Graham> This means another trip to McMillan & Son's Ax Mart.
As soon as you get home with your newly-headed ax, though, you
meet the reanimated body of the guy you beheaded last year.
<Graham> He's also got a new head attached and it's wearing
that unique expression of "you're the man who killed me last
Spring" resentment that one so rarely encounters in everyday
life.
<Graham> You brandish your ax. He takes a long look at the
weapon with his squishy, rotting eyes and in a gargly voice he
screams, "that's the same ax that slayed me!"
<Graham> ...Is he right?
