And they are some our guide for Marmite first timers. First toast your pillowy soft bread.

Push that.

Liberally spread that butter. Stroke that Marmite open.

Dip that knife and spread that. Don't overload.

And taste that. Marmite. Love it.

Hate it. Get it on.

Dr. Nasey.

Jody should have died. Or perhaps it would be better to say that she should have passed on to the afterlife.

But she did not.

As her life's blood poured out all over the waxy floor, as the biological processes of death were taking hold,

killing the mortal shell once and for all. A single word passed into her mind.

Joe.

The words were like gasoline to the dwindling candle within Jody.

Her dying flame ignited into something so radiant that she could not die.

The flame was not love, passion, or desire to make amends with her husband.

Rather, the all-consuming flame within was rage.

Burning hot, fiery rage, a fit of anger so fierce that it could not stay in the woman's body as she died.

The flames were too great. The hatred so palpable that it was impossible for Jody to die.

And yet her body was fading.

Her cries of agony and fury were trapped in a mouth that could no longer open.

This was all his fault.

Joe.

...