the man of the bog was disinterred and brought to the feast table for questioning. as usual, the honored guest was the most boring, conversations drunken and one sided.
the guests presence carries a price; a body for a body. at all times must one being sleep in the mossy bed.
what have i been doing since last we spoke? drinking. and yourself? yes, certainly; whatever has occurred is between thyself and the bog. rope still around the neck, a grim piece falls to the table. and what to name it? bog piece. loamy piece.