What can YOU say in six sentences?
The brickbat struck Flythe between his eyes and he dropped like one of tomorrow's pumpkins with blood gushing from his forehead to merge with the steady stream from his ruined mouth.
The first time he blinked he saw his mother and father standing over him in their scarlet demon outfits, shrieking at him, feeding on his fear, their games concealing the ugly black truth at the center of them which was that he had been born for their entertainment, born to obey and quail, born to suffer; the second time he blinked he was fifteen and his knife was going in and out of them, inflicting the power he'd been taught to inflict, teaching the teachers the last lesson they'd ever need to be taught; the third time he blinked he was back on the floor of the clubhouse and everything had gone wrong, his sacrificial lamb had been joined by scraggly members of its flock and they were preparing to flee.
The Wonder Woman had loosed Owen and was holding him upright while the fat boy had freed Owen's brother, the one who couldn't leave well enough alone. Owen kicked weakly at Flythe as they passed, and Flythe tried to right himself but the world kept spinning out from under him. "Let's go," Burke urged, and they headed for the door as Flythe's mind unraveled in a medley of parsley, sage, rosemary, moonsong, hallowed eves consecrated in the blood of innocents and time, cruel prancing time.
But the fat boy was one step behind the others and Flythe still had the big knife in his hand and he lashed out with the last of his strength and sunk his blade into that lumbering belly, and the 'oof' of pain was like a great wick catching flame in his skull.