Peter Gillain was going to die. He was bound to a chair in a dimly lit room, with a mean-looking man with a large axe. Peter’s back was against the wall, a single torch in the stone wall above his head. All he wore were some tattered rags that somehow passed for trousers. The man in front of him wore a large, black hood and mask, blood-stained brown pants, and brown leather boots. He sharpened the blade meticulously.

“You ready for showtime?” the executioner asked in a surprisingly light, gentle, almost jovial voice.

Peter was taken aback by this, and took a few moments to respond. “Um, yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy now,” the executioner said. “You haven’t got much longer, there’s no reason to be so reserved. Oh, where are my manners?” he asked himself. “My name’s William. So, what do you do?” William laughed, and rephrased this: “What did you use to do?”

“Well, I was a farmer, outside of York,” Peter said, “but I wasn’t making much and couldn’t feed my family. I got mixed up in a plot to kill the lord of York, in exchange for payment. As you can probably tell, it didn’t work out.”

“Ah, yes, just got finished executing your buddies,” William said.

“Do you do this often?’ Peter asked, his spirits lifted remarkably.

“Oh, no. I’m actually a logger,” William replied. “I just do this for some extra money. The work’s not much different!” he chuckled as he pointed at the axe in his hands.

Peter laughed too. “So, when is this gonna happen?”

“Aw, you don’t like my company?” William asked, mocking sadness. “We got about two minutes now.”

“You know, I wanna thank you for being so uplifting. This is a pretty rough time for me, and you’ve helped me a lot,” Peter said, truly appreciative.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” William said. The nearby bell tower began to ring. “Aw, already? We should probably get going now,” he added, dejected. He moved forward and released Peter from the chair, but left his hands tied. Peter stood up, stretched his legs, and followed William outside and up onto the platform, in front of the crowd.

“Sorry about this, gotta give the people a show,” William whispered. He proceeded to kick Peter in the back of the legs, forcing him down in a kneeling position.

Some noble walked onto the scaffold and read off Peter’s crimes. William leaned down and whispered, “Blah blah blah blah blah.”

The noble motioned for William to go ahead and go through with it. William leaned down and whispered, “Showtime!” to Peter, and Peter giggled.

William hefted the axe above his head, and brought it down.

Peter’s head tumbled down and faced up. William could see him smiling.