Knocked out cold
Thrown into the trunk
Driven back to my
Cellar of pleasure
Dragged down concrete steps
Hoisted up by the ankles
Suspended and inverted
Legs pulled in two directions
Screams of pain flood the room
Reverberating off the walls
I retrieve my cleaver
My butcher's tool of choice
I swing wildly
There's no finesse involved
I slowly but surely
Chop my way through
Flesh and bone split
Blood and sweat pour
You're butchered and you have been
Cleaved in half
Cleaved
In
Half