100 Words:  Welcome to the “Ridiculum.”

They pecked away at Graham for hours, throwing barbs and taunts, pointing out in excruciating, horrifying, piercing detail all of his failings, flaws, follies, frets, and faults, flaying him with words as he sat there, on a hard wooden chair under the spotlight.

At first he protested. Then he raged. Pled. Wept. Ultimately, he sat, silent and still, eyes staring off, breathing in quiet, fitful gasps.

When it was complete, and the had others filed out, Mr. Grey walked over, stopping just outside the spotlight. He smiled, softly, and tossed the pistol into Graham’s lap. “You’ll probably be wanting that.”