"… throat cut!" a voice shouted excitedly as though yelling Home Run! Big Smiley leaned across the bar and grabbed the red-eyed knifeman by the lapels of his mackinaw and lifted him from the floor. "Gimme that chiv, shorty, 'fore I makes you eat it," he said lazily, smiling as though it were a joke. The knifeman twisted in his grip and slashed him across the arm. The white fabric of his jacket sleeve parted like a burst balloon and his black-skinned muscles opened like the Red Sea. Blood spurted. Big Smiley looked at his cut arm. He was still holding the knifeman off the floor by the mackinaw collar. His eyes had a surprised look. His nostrils flared. "You cut me, didn't you?" he said. His voice sounding unbelieving. "Ah'll cut you again," the little knifeman said, wriggling in his grip. Big Smiley dropped him as though he'd turned hot. The little knifeman bounced on his feet and slashed at Big Smiley's face. Big Smiley drew back and reached beneath the bar counter with his right hand. He came up with a short-handled fireman's axe. It had a red handle and a honed, razor-sharp blade. The little knifeman jumped into the air and slashed at Big Smiley again, matching his knife against Big Smiley's axe. Big Smiley countered with a right cross with the redhandled axe. The blade met the knifeman's arm in the middle of its stroke and cut it off just below the elbow as though it had been guillotined. The severed arm in its coat sleeve, still clutching the knife, sailed through the air, sprinkling the nearby spectators with drops of blood, landed on the linoleum tile floor, and skidded beneath the table of a booth. The little knifeman landed on his feet, still making cutting motions with his half arm. He was too drunk to realize the full impact. He saw that the lower part of his arm had been chopped off; he saw Big Smiley drawing back the redhandled axe. He thought Big Smiley was going to chop at him again. "Wait a minute, you big mother-raper, till Ah finds my arm!" he yelled.