The day drew long shadows over the splintery wood and the bowed, hot, muted heads of the crowd. To the left, a final gasp. In the center all eyes were. Hands strained against bloody holes of gouging, ragged nailing, and feet twisting on their spindle. Breath came slowly. Then, faster, and soon faster. In his mind the Nazarene could see her bent over his groin, working for his pleasure, her face strained. "Oh..." he murmured. The crowd pushed forward. "Oh!" he gasped, "Oh, God! Oh, Mary! Oh...", spraying his thick semen on the faithful, and into the mud.