He goes to the counter, grabs hold of a scalpel, carefully brings the razor-sharp business end of the stainless steel surgical instrument to my bear thigh.
“This is gonna pinch a little, Jobzy,” he says, making a slice. “But you know, like they say, no pain, no gain.”
The pain is electric. I thrust myself up against the straps. The blood spurts out of the severed artery. Grabbing hold of a clear tube that’s attached to the underside of the table, Herman shoves it into the wound. It’s like he’s sticking a hot poker into the raw open flesh. My vision becomes clouded in red, while I feel myself going in and out of consciousness. I also catch sight of the blood filling the plastic tube and draining into one of the basins under the steel table.
“There now,” Herman exclaims. “That wasn’t so
