The trigger of a luger is being pulled by skeletal fingers.
The bullet impacts on a disembodied skull which is hovering
overhead in empty black space, and is then set afire with
kerosene and a match.
The skull is on fire, with half of its cranium blown
away, and is smoking cigars and chattering away, talking about
fucking. It is wearing a top hat.
The top hat falls off the now-broken skull into bottomless
space. Subsequent bullets from a bone-hand holding a gun
pierce the skull: bits of calcium and marrow split asunder and
scatter into darkness.
But the skull keeps talking shit about fucking some chick
doggy-style, with lewd intonations given to each word...and the
volume gets softer, softer still...as the jaw dissembles completely
with the impact of the third, fourth and fifth bullets.
All matter ceases to exist.