Jean-Claude’s mouth moved in horror, his lips rounding with terror as I went to work with my pliers. Removing his fingernails took no time at all, really, then because I was in no mood to be caught in the act, I quickly cut out his tongue and went to work stitching his lips shut. Jean-Claude ultimately drowned in his own blood, which was a terribly dramatic way to go. It sent a message, though.
