"Chop him up! Chop him up! CHOP HIM UP!"
By this time, the guy was screeching. The crowd began to screech along. For a few minutes, all anyone could hear, say, or understand, were the words "chop him up."
It hadn't always been like this. Time was when only one or two beings would catch the chop-him-up fever. The rest would do one of three things: some would laugh nervously, most would scurry away, but a few would sneer and say something having to do with the grace of god. But God knew. He could see, and he was Happy with his work.
"I see you've gotten them into quite the tizzy Colonel. Well done." the colonel's CO said.
"Thank you sir. I do my best."
Meanwhile, back in the real world, the poor fellow was readying himself for the big chopping block in the sky, his god awaiting.
Snap out of it. We are being played.
This is my entry to 
I started reading Brideshead Revisited just last night, hence the colonel and his CO. I am determined to be able to boast, before I kick the bucket, that I have read every book on my bookshelf. There was little else here to read (hence Brideshead Revisited), so I can boast that I am getting very close.
