Today was like any other day; Arthur Kirkland sat there in silence reading the daily newspaper.

Then, he read a specific article

Britain, sat in his chair, his brain trying to process the new information

'No…

No, no, no, no!
He saw it.

The frog… was gone… h-he was gone!'

Britian started to laugh, not a normal, happy laugh, but a rough, strangled hysterical sort of laugh. The sound resembling that of a madman.

He walked to the office.

And grabbed a box cutter.

The thick red liquid

Being pumped by a rough calloused heart

Around the body

Through scarred arteries and veins

But wait..

The heart had turned bitter,

Cold,

Dark.

What happens when the arteries have been slashed

Cut

Torn open

Slit with a sharp blade?

Then the blood spills

Flows

Falls

Out of the body

Out of the nation

Into the mud

Into the only 'true' reality

Death.