Urist stared out of the wagon quietly.<br/><br/><i>'S 'at a man e're cuttin' up o'er 'ere?</i>he thought loudly, rather worried by the notion.<i>Not ev'n 'ndoors, th' bur... bar... buhhh... BARBARIANS. 'At's it.</i>He watched the organs removed, watched the shiny gold bits move.<i>'S prob'ly juss' a stat- neh, e's got innards. Statt-oos don' got innards... an' if they's guttin' a man cos 'e's shiny, 'ey'd gut me fer less. Prob'ly demon-kiss'rs, 's I thunk...</i><br/><br/>Urist looked for a convenient escape route, found none, and went back to thinking.