There was this kid with this knife and I don't think he knew what he was doing. He kept making litle cinches on the palm of his hand and wondering out loud why there was no blood coming out of them, he just kept scratching himself with this very puzzled look on his face, and there was these little tiny bits of flesh, dry flesh spilling out of his hand, and he just kept growing more and more confused. Than he would scratch his head, very monkey-like, and drop the knife and reach for a pistol. Than he would aim the muzzle at his forehead, or at his temples, or at his throat, and I think he was thinking why there weren't any bullets coming out of it. He didn't even mind the trigger, I guess he didn't know what it was for, thank God!, just think of the mess it would make! Someone in the audience cried: sleeping pills overdose! And threw a flask at him. Another guy went up to the stage with a rope and a ladder and tied the rope to the ceiling and threw the noose to the boy and showed him how to wrap it around his neck and jump. He helped him climb the ladder and almost pushed him out of it but I guess he didn't want the guilt of it on his shoulders so he just let the boy thrust his own body down the steps. The audience went silent for a moment. The kid hung in the air but showed no sign of dying. He even laughed a bit and said it tickles. Other men from the audience went up to the stage. One took the pistol and fired a couple of rounds at the boy. Another stabbed him with the knife. No blood, he just started laughing! It tickles, he said! It tickles! It tickles! People started clapping their hands, very amused for the money they had just paid to see the boy who wouldn't die.
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