The cameraman set up the tripod. Gene's thick forearm curled gently around my neck. All I remember after that is catching a glimpse of the ceiling and hearing Gene's distant voice, as if in a dream, barking: "He'll wake up soon."
Viewing the footage later, I watched my lifeless body fall limp against the ground like a puppet cut from its strings. It was a terrible thing to see. Thank goodness it was on film.
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