I looked down at the naked man laying on my table and the most jaring thing about him were the whites of his eyes. Not the duct tape and muffled screams behind his mouth, not the 4 leather straps incompacitated his limbs in thrashing silence. The whites grew a size larger when I revealed what had been in my hand. I demonstrated my tools intended purpose by tracing playful lines on the man’s bare chest, carefully not to tangle the tubes that connected it to the imbalming fluid reservoirs. “Red out, Blue in” I sank the tool into his chest and his beating heart and my machine worked in unison to solidify his organs. The whites of his eyes began to dim, and he no more had any identifying features. Perhaps I’ll replace them with dolls eyes, I’m sure he’d like that.