O securitee' specialist from the way back era, eros and in particle physio-dyanmatronietique'...
the cameras stopped.

There on the floor was a naked man upside down.

In his hand was a Rolling Stone Book.

The kind of Rolling Stone TOO large to mistake.

A coffee table book designed, jacket of hand drawn caricatures displaying tiny tell tale signs of post humous thank you letters done.

On cocktail napkins, the brides sillouette.

The wedding dress lay strewn about the cathedral like a taffeta of silk placed gently before court.

No where before the magistrate was the evidence of date, time or placement of the groom....

...and the groom had disapeared.

As the moon waxed suddenly from behind the wisp of a cloud, outside a cyclist speeding by grasped the yellow bannana tie-ra blue diamond that had been neatly placed in the small opening carved into the wooden lightpole.

Laughing maniacally.. he dropped it into the waiting cup of soda that had been left on the sidewalk next to the black x chalk spot beside the leaflet and moss.

As the fog swept around the water-tail of the cyclists rear wheel... she reached out from the shadow of the pole and plucked the diamond from the cup.

\\Consumate'.

WTF?

@7: Compared to some other Slog Editors, I really think Jen tends to be quite restrained.