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The bloody head with eyes gourged out, held above the mighty tower by
the midnight watchman on a metal pole. The rippled muscles tight and bulging
carried the impalement through the town. A deep sinister voice bellowed out
repeatedly, "Come here, come here, come all to see! The mighty head of King
Henry!" The words oozed like slow thick slime through the streets of town.
Calling the villagemen forth. They stood and stared, eyes open wide, and mouth
agape. The king was murdered, again today.
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