Warren Ellis lets Spider Jerusalem out his box again with short story that shines the harsh glare of a cathode ray tube on the horror of politics.
It was true. B-roll from SPKF coverage spilled across the television screen, and there they were, just under his shirt collar, accidentally revealed by a make-up artist as she tried to relieve his unearthly grey pallor. A steel bolt in either side of his neck, marked with the unmistakeable sooty scars of electrical contact.
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